


Call Me Monster

by LovettOrNot



Category: EXO (Band), K-pop
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, BDSM, Blackmail, Breathplay, Collars, Dubious Consent, Embarrassment, Exhibitionism, First Time, Humiliation, M/M, Masochism, Multi, Paddling, Phone Sex, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Sex, Public Sex, Rough Sex, Shameless Smut, Spanking, Vibrators, Webcam/Video Chat Sex, Whipping
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-20
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-05-25 20:54:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 31,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14985386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LovettOrNot/pseuds/LovettOrNot
Summary: When you signed up to be student council president, the most you expected were a few fundraisers, maybe the occasional meeting with professors. What you didn’t expect was the resident group of bad boys, EXO, trying to break you any way they can.(A self-indulgent EXO x Male Reader fic, enjoy.)





	1. Misunderstood, Probably

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some quick notes:  
> 1\. Lay's out of town for the first few chapters.  
> 2\. Suho's part of the committee, so he's a 'secret' member of EXO.  
> 3\. Smut to come in every chapter following this one.  
> 4\. This fic is dedicated to lillicat, A.K.A. that one girl with the top hat from League.

“Why don’t you let me take you out?” Jongin’s grip on your hips is tight, but it’s his crotch rubbing against your butt that makes your body flush with shame. It isn’t what he’s doing or even the stares of everyone in the cafeteria that makes the blood rush to your face- it’s that you _want_ it. “What do you say, Mr. President?”

 

His breath, hot against your ear, drives you crazy. His firm body against your back is everything you wanted since the first time you saw him. The way his lips ghost over the nape of your neck fills you with the need to agree, to run off with one of the few men who stole your heart at first sight. Your lips tremble, on the cusp of saying ‘Yes’, but…

 

You know he sees you as a challenge.

 

Your hands shoot to his, stifling the thoughts of how big and manly they were  compared to yours, prying the fingers off one by one until he lets go. You spin around to lecture him, only to come across that damned pout of his that melts your heart, makes you want to take care of him- and you’re losing it again!

 

“Jongin-”

 

“Didn’t I tell you to call me Kai? Oh well, hyung’s good too.”

 

It’s always like this. Deflections, excuses, intimate language. He’s gotten half of the school to believe that you’re his boyfriend. Knowing what he does, how couldn’t they? He waits for you at the entrance, buys you lunch, draws you into big hugs out of nowhere in highly visible places- all three of which he already did today. You’re at your wit’s end. Nothing short of a restraining order would stop him, but that doesn’t really solve anything. Jongin can still prowl around other people without ever changing.

 

“ _Mr. Kim_ , how many times do I have to say this?” Your authoritative tone immediately loses the interest of the impromptu audience. They know the routine. You scold him, he won't listen and the entire thing happens again two or three days from now. “PDA is strictly forbidden.”

 

His smirk widens and you can hear the quip before it leaves his mouth. “C’mon, nobody cares about that rule except you. I can’t get enough of you in private.”

 

You could storm off again. Let the cycle continue until you finished your course. It’s _only_ four years of juggling administrative responsibilities, studying, homework, research, overlooking the establishment of a new kendo club and dodging Jongin’s near-constant advances, all the while wanting him. After weighing the pros and cons of living with the high possibility of a stroke, you decide on a compromise.

 

You’ll give him exactly what he asked for.

 

Still, you have a reputation to uphold. Announcing that you were accepting Jongin after all these months of bickering was a big enough ego boost. Announcing it to an entire cafeteria with fellow student council members nearby, especially Junmyeon, would not only raise his ego to dangerous levels, but also prove his point. No, you need a controlled location, somewhere he can’t use the presence of other people to manipulate and twist what you say. As much as you want to suggest your flat, the probability of forcing out your flatmate for even a few minutes is next to none. Jongin, on the other hand…

 

You try to stutter out Jongin’s preferred name, but the sound hitches at the back of your throat. Hopefully he’d be too excited about your question to, well, question why you want it. “Can we speak somewhere private?” When Jongin’s eyes go wide, you grab his arm and squeeze. Hard.  “Don’t get your hopes up.”

 

Disappointed but still intrigued, Jongin openly relishes your touch, boasting to all that he had your full attention with a triumphant smile. Leaving the noise and exposure of the bustling blue and white cafeteria behind you, you head into the marginally less noisy and somewhat more private open hallway. It isn’t worth the risk to barge into a class to an irate professor, dragging along the school’s most infamous heartbreaker.You have a few rough minutes to speak before the couple lazily making their way from the other end reach the two of you, so you swallow, close your eyes and blurt it out as quickly as possible.

 

“Do you have a private place we can meet up at?”

 

You open your eyes as his husky laughter strikes all of the right chords within you for all the wrong reasons. It isn’t derisive, but each shake of his relaxed shoulders screamed that he thought he won. “I knew you’d come around eventually.” His voice drops to a low whisper as he corners you against the locker, his hand coming up to the side of your head. What was this, a romance drama? “You’re gonna be screaming my name tonight.”

 

You shiver, and you have to remind yourself that, no, you didn’t come here to fantasize about him claiming you as his very own, coming out as the victor in this sordid game the both of you play. You came to bargain. “Not yet. Or, rather-” Blood rushes to your cheeks again. “I have some conditions. I’ll be your boyfriend if and only if you stop associating with EXO.”

 

Jongin’s face twitches minutely, not quite surprised so much as troubled, caught between his conviction to get you by any means necessary and loyalty to his friends. For a few seconds you worry that the couple would catch up and overhear something they shouldn’t, but Jongin’s words catch you off-guard mere moments later. He sounds… resolute, somehow.

 

“Sorry babe, but I can’t do that. They’re my family.” You raise your eyebrow, ready to point out how easily he gave up, but he moves closer. He’s going to take your first kiss, isn’t he? Can’t have you, so he’ll have the next best thing. “I want you bad. I really do.” He knows you want it too. He doesn’t even have to ask. No matter how long you stare at his plump lips, they never go any farther. “If I have you, I’m going to have my family along with me. They’re not bad people, honest. I bet you’d like them if you got to know them better.”

 

Yeah, right. Life doesn’t work like a half-baked redemption arc in an inner city urban flick. People don’t just change at the drop of a hat. If they did, EXO wouldn’t be a problem anymore. Granted, you don’t actually know what they do to rile so many people, Jongin aside. They always hang around the corners of the school, but as afraid of them as most people are, you expect a mountain of complaints at your desk. There never are any. Junmyeon is the most reliable guy you know- he handles all of the complaints and occasionally sends you to reprimand the odd offender, but nothing ever came through about EXO.

 

Without the backing of the school behind you, little can be done on an official level. On a subconscious level, you realize, you’ve always avoided them. It isn’t just their connection to Jongin that contributed to the feeling of unease, it was the rumor, the _legend_ surrounding them all. Now that you’re thinking rationally, however, it seems more like an urban legend than a genuine reason for fear. Jongin’s still staring at you. Not with amorous intent like all the other times, but gleaming with hope and genuineness. You’re going to regret this, aren’t you?

 

“If I can talk some sense into _you_ , I can do the same for anyone. I’ll talk to them.”

 

He growls, a heavy guttural sound from the back of his throat, before he presses against you full force. For the first time, you really appreciate the warmth of his body. You breathe a deep sigh and let your head fall against his chest. His muscles tense. He’s probably looking at you. Wondering why you’re cooperative all of a sudden. Well, you don’t have an answer. Not a logical one or something you can say aloud, anyway. He gradually relaxes as the silence falls over the two of you.

 

That is, of course, until you hear shoddily hidden whispers and footsteps. Spotting a couple people staring, you clear your throat and push Jongin away gently. He gets the message immediately, that cocky smirk of his making a reappearance. You huff and adjust your tie. When that isn’t enough of a warning, you resort to yelling.

 

“Don’t you all have classes to get to!?”

 

**✁- - - - - - - - - - - -**

 

The summer sun is sweltering. The shade of the tree outside your flat offers little to stop the choking heat. Your flatmate warned you not to go out with a vest over your shirt, but as insufferable as the beads of sweat on your forehead are, you don’t want to risk Jongin getting any wrong ideas about the point of your meet-up. You gulp and play with your fingers, wishing that he’d hurry up and pick you up already. There are a million and one ways you can see things going wrong, but in the end you’re the one who agreed to go to his house.

 

It’s only been a few days since you promised to talk with EXO, but Jongin’s been… himself. You can’t really say that he’s touchier. It just feels like it because you let him do it, now. He loves to touch you in very specific ways. Stroking your palm while you’re trying to study in the library. Playing with your hair after class. Hugging you from behind, always behind, sometimes ‘playfully’ recreating the incident that brought you two together. You hate to say that it’s endearing, but it is.

 

You’re snapped out of your stupor by the sound of a car door slamming shut. Speak- or think- of the devil and he shall appear. Jongin being Jongin, he looks stunning in casual clothes whereas you spent ages building up a halfway decent style. Even the backward cap you usually find annoying suits him perfectly. You reach for your tie (that you forgot isn’t part of this look) and drop your hand hastily, earning a questioning look from Jongin. You wave it off.

 

Jongin doesn’t let up, however, flicking one of the buttons on your vest. “Still dressing fancy in this heat, huh? I guess you’re really looking forward to our date.”

 

“It’s not a date. Please don’t tell me you didn’t talk to your friends.” You pinch the bridge of your nose and consider running back inside, but Jongin’s arm is already around your shoulders. He pulls you along insistently, muttering about how good you look, but you know better. You dig your heels in when you reach the car. You glare at him when he has the audacity to open the door with an expectant look. “We’re not going anywhere until you promise that we’re going to your house. No dates. No sudden detours. Your. House.”

 

“ _Relax_. Of course I’m taking you to my house. That’s the best place for the first date.” He pats your back, trying to console you, but it doesn’t work. You’re about five seconds from yelling at him when he cuts you off with a hastily tacked-on statement. “The guys are coming over, don’t you worry about it. Nice to see you’re as feisty as ever.”

 

You don’t dignify that with a response. Now that you have confirmation you’re eager to crawl into the front seat. You waste no time at all slamming the door shut by yourself and cranking the AC to full blast. Slightly rude, yes, but so is Jongin so that’s that. You don’t want to meet EXO with pit stains if you could possibly avoid that unfortunate situation. Settling into the plush leather behind you and with Jongin in the driver’s seat, you’re off to… his house. Now that you think about it, you don’t actually know his address. Oh boy. All you can do is hope that he’s telling the truth as you watch your flat disappear into the distance.

 

There aren’t any winding roads or suspicious detours that arouse your suspicion. In fact, you know this path very well. Too well. “Um, Jongin?”

 

“Kai.”

 

You have the feeling he won’t budge on this topic, as stupid as it is. You resist the urge to sigh dramatically and instead turn your head toward the window. “Kai.”

 

“Yes, babe?”

 

“Why are we heading to school?”

 

Before he became obsessed with you Jongin was always late to class. He’s on time for every class he shares with you. Everything else? Consistently late. It’s incredibly obvious how little interest Jongin has in his attendance, but you have the sneaking suspicion that it’s not because of how far away he lives. Not that you really considered that to be an excuse in the first place. You don’t have your own car, but you make due. You have enough money for a taxi, but you walk anyway. Have to exercise somehow.

 

The only answer you get out of Jongin is non-committal laughter. Both of you know that it’s exactly how it seems. His face and hands are stiff despite his mirth. He wants to avoid talking about that habit for as long as he can. You cross his arms. You’ll let him do that for now. If he has any intention of keeping you as his boyfriend, you’ll have a long talk about how important his attendance is, even if his grades are pretty good. Somehow, despite everything, you don’t think he cheats on any of his exams.

 

When you arrive you’re no longer surprised to find the car stopping a few blocks away from your school. It’s everything you expected: sleek, modern and hopelessly out of your price range. Although Jongin isn’t the richest person, it’s clear that he’s at least a little bit spoilt. It’s very telling how flippant about his wealth is when Jongin has a perfectly good garage but parked on the side of the road anyway.

 

The inside is no different. You’re not an architecture student and you don’t really care for those house renovation shows (you aren’t _that_ old yet), but you _do_ know a couple of terms. Open concept. Kitchen island. Furniture that isn’t plastic. Considering how messy Jongin is in class, you didn’t really expect everything to be so orderly. It isn’t perfect, and your fingers itch with the need to fix that needlessly tilted row of books on the bookshelf, but you appreciate his effort.

 

The sofa he shoves you onto is somehow more comfortable than your own mattress, the cheap one that somehow got indented with your general shape. Jongin crashes into the seat next to you, wasting no time at all to grab your shoulder, gently trying to push you down and to the side- onto his lap. He bypasses the glare you shoot him and only pauses when you put your hand over his.

 

“What are you doing?”

 

“The guys’ll be over in five minutes. Until then… This is the first time you came over. I want it to be special.”

 

Sappy or not, when Jongin speaks earnestly like this your heart flutters, makes you a little bit more susceptible to your baser feelings. Your head goes fuzzy with the sheer amount of thoughts, but you shut it all away for a little while as you let yourself be lowered. Having your eyes open feels wrong on so many awkward levels, so you close them. Jongin keeps remarkably still, letting you feel the warmth seeping through his jeans. You could really use that nap you were thinking about right now.

 

There are fingers in your hair, catching you mid-yawn. You always love it when people play with your hair. The only reason that it’s not common knowledge is because you stop people’s hands from getting anywhere near your hair. Your flatmate does it sometimes, the weirdo. It’s so much better when Jongin’s curling some of your locks around his finger. The care, the hesitation, the chasteness of it all; _this_ is the side of Jongin that you fell in love with. As much as he is a hellion, he can be an angel if he puts his mind to it. Before you know it, you’re dozing off.

 

The sound of a door slamming shut jolts you awake. You lift your head and panic when you don’t recognize the surroundings, but Jongin gives you a reassuring look. Now, that would’ve worked had it not been for someone yelling right afterward.

 

“Holy shit. You got the president to suck you off?”

 

It takes you all of five seconds to shoot your death glare at the bastard who said that, a higher-pitched boy swallowed up by his white hoodie. There’s a rabble of other guys cheering and hooting around him, but you don’t stop glaring until the boy shrinks further into his hoodie. When he hides behind one of the other hoodlums, you turn back to Jongin.

 

“Yeah,” You deadpan. “I don’t think this is going to work.”

 

“Don’t mind Baekhyun, he can be an idiot at times.” While Jongin is more than willing to talk, the iron grip he has on your arm right is more than enough proof that he’d make your exit difficult. “Oi, calm down!” Somehow you doubt that Jongin regularly controls his rabble, but they nonetheless quiet down. “You all know Mr. President. My soon-to-be boyfriend. He doesn’t like what we’re doing! He wants to talk it out with us.”

 

The crowd rushes forward and pelts you with all kinds of questions intermingled with greetings and, through the noise, crude opinions about your body and its… ‘fuckability’. Oh boy. In order to assess the situation you can’t have eight different people shouting over eachother like they are now. You cast a weary gaze and try to find someone you can rein in easily. There must be someone younger than you, one you can intimidate.

 

Among the faces is a patch of lifted light pink hair. Beneath that is an adorable, rounded face with big eyes. He’s far too cute to be wearing that sleeveless shirt of his, even if his arms are well-muscled. Either he or the boy in the hoodie is the youngest, definitely. With your targets in mind you clear your throat loudly, the old trick silencing them easily.  You pinch the bridge of your nose, partially for the headache they gave you and partially for dramatic effect.

 

“Here’s how we’re going to do it. One on one interviews. Everyone- and yes, that includes you, Jongin- leave the room until you’re called. May I know who the youngest is?” You look expectantly at hoodie boy and sleeveless guy, but neither of them make a single move. You spot a hand going up from a serious looking dark-haired guy with smoky undereyes and high cheekbones. “Yes? You have a question?”

 

“Um,” His voice is unique. Not deep, maybe the slightest bit pitchy, but you hesitate to call it either. “I’m the youngest.”

 

Well, that’s a surprise. The one you pegged as oldest from the get-go happens to be the maknae? Jongin would’ve jumped in by now if it’s a lie. Swallowing your shock, you nod and gesture to the sofa opposite. As everyone clears out, the maknae sits next to you. You feel like screaming, but you promised to give Jongin and his friends a chance. You scoot to free up more space between the two of you, but he shifts to fill it in again. Today’s going to be a long day.

 

“Alright. Don’t think of me as your schoolmate or as the student body president, okay? I’m a kindly stranger for now. What’s your name?”

 

“Call me Sehun.”

 

“Alright Sehun, what makes people so afraid of you?”

 

“Probably my good looks.” Blunt. Not only blunt, but he exudes the same kind of reckless confidence that Jongin does. You don’t make it your business to constantly track Jongin, but you do like to know when he was busy with someone else. He likes to hang around with Sehun and another one whose name you’ll have to learn. “Other than that, I guess I have a bit of a reputation with people.”

 

You wish you had a notepad or a pencil like one of those psychologists or psychotherapists use. It’s not to deflect or distract yourself from what was being said this time. You actually want to take all of this down so you can study it later. Now that you think about it, yes, Sehun does have a bit of a reputation. They’re quiet whispers, but whispers nonetheless, that you sometimes overhear in the office. ‘Sehun has a new one.’ Committee members know better than to hide problems from you, so you never followed up on it. Now, however…

 

“Mind elaborating on that?”

 

“They can’t keep up with me.” His words drip disappointment. “So many pretty faces, not enough durable minds.”

 

As if on autopilot your hand moves to swat Sehun’s as soon as it moves to poke your midsection. His laidback attitude shatters and Sehun is left to rub the back of his hand. Well, now he knows not to overstep his boundaries. You have no idea why he’s smiling, but you haven’t gotten to the core of the problem yet.

 

“So you have trouble with relationships. You’re looking for the right person, but you’re intellectually unsatisfied, right? I’m supposed to tell you that relationships should wait until after your studies, but nobody’s actually going to-”

 

“I have someone in mind already, so I don’t need your advice. I’ll be the only person they need. Can I leave now?”

 

You open your mouth to say something only to close it again glumly. It’s a valid and fast solution, provided that Sehun sticks with it. You’ll have to use the only leverage you have over him. “Remember, if you harass anyone else, I’m not going to date Jongin. Call in the next youngest, please.”

 

“Got it.” Sehun darts away from the couch with remarkable speed. You watch him over your shoulder, when you spot-

 

“Jongin, no. We’re working through your problem already.” Jongin pouts at you, inching from his spot in the doorway closer to you. You can already hear what he’s going to say. ‘But I’m the next youngest!’ While you didn’t know that (originally putting him on the high end of the spectrum with Sehun) if you let Jongin in he’s not going to leave. “NEXT!”

 

Jongin tries and fails to tempt you with prolonged puppy eyes and a pout. You look past him, to the proper interviewee, someone who’s so unremarkable compared to the others that he in turn becomes remarkable. It’s a style you’ve attempted in the past, but it only really works if you have contrast like this one does. He has hair as red as the checkers on his shirt, but that’s about it for the supposedly rebellious look the members of EXO have. He’s… plainly handsome, up close. You can’t describe it any better than that.

 

When he comes around, you offer the seat across, subconsciously sticking to your half of the sofa in case he blatantly disregards your command. You breathe a sigh of relief when he obeys, allowing you to assume a much more professional posture. He mirrors you, not out of spite or intention, automatically returning the respectful gesture. How did someone like him end up with this bunch? If you play your cards right, you might have yourself another committee member.

 

“Hi. Your name?”

 

“Do Kyungsoo. Call me D.O.”

 

You resist the urge to make a snappy remark along the lines of ‘what a creative nickname’, but one, that’s rude and two, he might not have given it to himself. Jongin calling himself Kai is evidence enough that there might be a forced nickname scheme.

 

“Well, I wouldn’t have taken you to be part of this group. I won’t question how you got caught up in this, so what I’ll ask instead is… do you feel that you, in any way, intimidate the student populace?”

 

“Me? Not really. If I had to stretch for an answer, you can take my headlocks-”

 

“You put people into headlocks!?” Oh, now this is erring more on the side of your executive administrative power. Dangerous. If D.O. puts that aside, you’re sure he can be a respectable person.

 

“Only with their consent. _They_ ask me. I don’t go around school offering headlocks.”

 

Now that, that makes a lot more sense. Where Sehun provided his own solution, D.O.’s problem doesn’t seem to need solving in the first place. It’s his circle of friends that’s holding him back. You bite your bottom lip while weighing the likelihood of him breaking away before shaking your head. One or two bad influences, maybe, but he has seven, far too much to pull him away completely.

 

In the interest of keeping the interviews brief, you end it there, although you don’t let D.O. leave without one of your ‘business’ cards. They’re cheap bits of cardstock with no graphic design and haphazardly placed information in text, but they come free from your aunt who means well. Being a college student who relies on allowance from your parents, you can’t refuse them.

 

The next one in hits the middle ground between Sehun and D.O., not trampling over you but still carrying himself with an uninterested air. His shock of white hair bounces when he flops into the opposite seat. You muse to yourself that he and Sehun would get along nicely together; if not for their personalities, then their visual contrast. He takes the initiative, although you suspect he was fed the opening question by the two who came before him.

 

“Park Chanyeol, you can call me Mr. Park if you want.”

 

“Riiight, Chanyeol, what part do you play in this group?”

 

If nothing else, you know how to push his buttons. It’s not your fault you have an aversion to calling people by their preferred names. When Chanyeol gets to know you better, then he’ll understand and stop sulking. Right now, it isn’t your business to console him. Chanyeol continues after a period of prolonged silence, mumbling to himself.

 

“I don’t wanna say, now.” He crosses his arms. “Though I think I know how you can make that up for me.”

 

The lecherous grin he has on despite wanting you to say ‘Mr. Park’ and nothing more makes you shudder. That being said, it’s kind of cute how he thinks he has leverage over you.  You don’t know how close to Jongin he is, but Jongin would give him hell if this becomes the dealbreaker for you.

 

“Please answer the question or I’ll call this entire interview off and go home.”

 

He barks out a harsh laugh and the next one or two words you hear you tune out. You don’t miss anything- after all, Chanyeol stops himself there, frowning when his thoughts catch up to his actions. You sit smugly as he sinks into the cushions, defeated.

 

“I’m a rapper.”

 

Oh, ew. Like one of those Soundcloud rappers who tell everybody to buy their mixtape and call themselves ‘underground’ despite, y’know, never being underground? Compared to that, you would’ve preferred him invading other people’s privacy or recording videos of people without their consent. Those two you could publicly and objectively denounce. You haven’t heard Chanyeol rapping, but you’re not going to listen. Strictly neutral for you.

 

“...Right. Next.”

 

With your head in your hands you don’t bother to look up at the next incomer until a soft tap on your shoulder startles you. Prepared to usher out the person on the off chance it’s Jongin, you’re instead surprised with a peering, thoughtful gaze. His hair looks red in the harsh light, transitioning into a soft pink once he sits in the other, more dimly lit, side. His cheekbones are more defined than Sehun’s, as if they were sculpted that way.

 

Laidback in the vein of Chanyeol but never erring on the side of rudeness, he intrigues you. From what you’ve seen of EXO the odds of them all having a personality and a half are high, but you seem to resonate with your current interviewee a little more than the others. Then again, that could just be because you want more EXO members to be reasonable. The moment he opens his mouth you could be proven wrong in an instant.

 

“Kim Jongdae, but my nickname’s Chen. Pleased to meet you.”

 

You exchange bows and pleasant greetings. This is shaping up to be an enjoyable conversation. You can feel it in your bones. “You’re a well-mannered, respectable fellow. Why do you mingle with EXO instead of the rest of the school?”

 

“People think I’m a pervert.”

 

You freeze completely, mid-hand fiddling, mid-leg bounce, mid-thought. Alright, calm down. No matter how hard you try (or, rather, because you refuse to try hard enough), you can’t picture Chen doing anything to warrant that title. You gulp. “Why?”

 

“Someone spotted me leaving a sex shop.”

 

“R-Right.” Your hands are shaking. “What were you d-doing there?”

 

“Buying sex toys.”

 

He admits it! You fall back onto your seat, stunned. Your mind feels like a dense fog, hazy and confused. Buying sex toys isn’t necessarily a perverted thing, even you, Mr. Virgin of the Year, have thought about experimenting with them. The catch is how freely Chen shares that information. If you bought a dildo you’d take more care handling that than crack cocaine. You wouldn’t even trust your flatmate with that knowledge!

 

Seeing your perplexed face, Chen raises his hand and continues. “I’m into BDSM and it’s not something anyone should be ashamed of. People think it’s disgusting sick, perverted, all of that, but I’m here to prove them wrong. Safe, sane and consensual. Just like I am.”

 

Chen’s frank, but Jongin, Sehun and you on your off days are too. You find yourself nodding along. While you’ve never dabbled or really read about all that goes into BDSM, you’re not stuck up enough to doubt his words. There aren’t any sex-ed classes and you’re likely to be kicked off of the committee if you even suggest something like a BDSM club, but you do want to help with the cause a little.

 

That being said, you’ll do that after the interview. That makes… four boys, now? Two more to go. You shake hands and give another one of your tacky business cards as Chen leaves. You drum your fingers on your lap absentmindedly, suppressing the tiredness that’s creeping into you. You stop slouching when your eyes catch on bright white fabric- a hoodie. Even with your interviewee turning his face away, the glint of the chains around his neck, thin build and outfit all tip you off as to who he is.

 

“Please, have a seat and tell me your name.”

 

“Byun Baekhyun.” He rubs the back of his neck uncertainly, accidentally throwing down his hood to reveal frazzled, light brown hair. “Sorry for being rude earlier.”

 

You narrow your eyes at him. Did Chen get him to say that? Either way, he apologized. No point in trying to drag more out of him. You’re whipping him into shape now. You slip into calm and understanding councellor mode, softening your features so Baekhyun opens up more easily. He reacts well to it. At least, he feels confident enough to look at you now, tensed up as he is.

 

“No problem. What kind of president would I be if I don’t give people second chances? That being said, I need to ask you something. You’ve been giving trouble at school recently, right?”

 

“Ah, so you found out about the punishment games?”

 

“The… the what now?”

 

“Forget I said that.” You’ll have to discuss the existence of punishment games with the rest of the committee when the next meeting comes around- no, that’s too long. You’ll text Junmyeon about it later. Baehyun’s busy digging himself into a deeper hole. “It’s not my fault the guys like to get rough sometimes.”

 

“Oh? How rough do they get?”

 

“If nobody’s bleeding then clearly not rough enough. It’s… the rush, you know?”

 

So he’s one of those adrenaline junkies, huh? Bungee jumping, fighting, watching American Ninja Warrior and recklessly peeling bananas- such a high-octane life isn’t cut out for someone like you. Nonetheless, you have to pretend you understand where Baekhyun is coming from. He needs to direct that pent-up energy into something other than fighting. With the new kendo club, you could turn his brute aggression into an artform!

 

“I think I have an offer that’ll satisfy the both of us.”

 

Baekhyun blushes a bright red. “R-Really?”

 

“Yeah, the kendo club.”

 

Baekhyun leaves the room incredibly disappointed but not empty-handed, coming away with the third of your cards. As for you, you have his phone number. Strictly business terms, you told him loud and clear, and all you’re going to send him is the contact info for the kendo club. Somehow, even though you’ve repeated yourself three times to him, you feel like you made a mistake.

 

The final person ends up being the one you expected to see first; big eyes, puffy cheeks and light pink hair, as if he stepped out of a Margaret Keane painting and grew up with the same youthful innocence. Of course, that’s what you can say about his outer appearance. You’re ready to look past your flights of fancy to get into the real meat of the issue- like, if he’s secretly into BDSM, public sex or fighting. _Perfectly normal pasttimes._

 

“Your name?”

 

“Please call me Xiumin.”

 

The conspicuous lack of a real name only passes you by because you let it. There’s no malice or suggestiveness like Chanyeol, just an earnest wish to be called something else. You hum thoughtfully. “You look a lot younger than you really are.” His giggle is delightfully adorable. You have to squeeze down on your thumb to avoid becoming overly complacent with him.

 

“Yeah, I get that often. I… know you must be tired, dealing with all of us. Sorry if this ruins the interview, but everyone’s been talking about their questions since Sehun came out.”

 

While you don’t claim to be a clairvoyant, master seeker of the truth or gifted with intuition, you don’t think anyone has lied to you today. You shrug it off. “Doesn’t matter. I’m guessing you know the next question?”

 

“People tend to think of me as a shut-in. It’s not so bad that I don’t leave the house at all, it’s just… risky out here, you know? I don’t think it’s anxiety. Do you ever get the feeling?”

 

Perilous out of the blankets. That’s one way your flatmate describes the world at large, although they said that with a twinkle in their eyes and a wistful tone rather than the cautious, even one Xiumin’s using. You can sympathize with Xiumin’s plight not because you’re afraid of the world at large, but because of what people think. Reputation, ideals, being a role model- everyone expects that of you, your parents, your friends and an entire group of people looking for guidance. They’re always outside of your door, but you face them anyway.

 

“In a way, yes. But your friends help you, don’t they? You’re always punctual from what I’ve heard.”

 

Xiumin’s smile is warm, like hot cocoa. Strange analogy, but you’re sticking with it. “Of course! It’s all about pushing past that fear and enjoying what life has to give you. That’s what I’m doing with mine, anyway.”

 

Out of six boys you realize that very few of them need your help. Only Baekhyun needs a healthier outlet for his aggression, otherwise they truly are misunderstood guys who need the air cleared. You dismiss Xiumin and immediately you hear galloping footsteps, yelping when the sofa rocks. Jongin _jumps_ over the seat and lands next to you, narrowly missing your hand.

 

Jongin doesn’t have to speak to show his excitement, it’s present in his eyes, the heavier breathing and the strained skin around his massive grin. You rub your face with your hand, debating whether or not to mention that there’s rotten apple out of the bunch, but you don’t bother. You lay your head on Jongin’s lap unabashedly now, murmuring your approval when his fingers trace through your locks again.

 

“I think I can safely say we’re boyfriends now.”


	2. Kai - Sour, Sweet, Gone

“Pardon me?”

 

Junmyeon is hard to surprise. As vice president, it’s his duty to ensure (while you’re busy beating Jongin away with a stick) that the office moves smoothly. His scores are consistently high, so much so that you’re glad to be his study partner. Outside of that, he finds the time to play the guitar regularly with his club. He’s popular with everyone but abstains from romance. It’s a hard life to live, something he confides within you often, but he’s able to live it by planning meticulously. He has a solution for every possible problem that he could face.

 

So when he pauses mid-bite, talks around his food and neglects to put down his spoon, you feel self-conscious enough to blush. “I’m dating Jongin now.”

 

Junmyeon’s eyes dart to and fro, scanning the table for answers you know he isn’t going to get. He drops his spoon and leans back into his seat. “I see.” There’s a sadness bordering on pain in his face. Is he disappointed in you? It’s not a good feeling.

 

“Don’t look at me like that. Jongin’s a much better person than he lets on.” A part of you recognizes that you’re trying to defend Kim Jongin of all people, but the week since you spoke with EXO has opened your eyes in so many ways. It’s not fair to focus solely on Jongin’s negative points. “He needs a good influence in his life, that’s all. I’m dating him so I can-”

 

“Fix him.”

 

Junmyeon finishes without even looking at you. He dejectedly stirs the soup in front of him, each uninterested cycle stabbing into your heart. You love criticizing badly written romance novels, so when Junmyeon points out something you allegedly hate that you yourself are doing… No, you can’t be a hypocrite. Jongin’s different. You’re fixing him already! He’s a much better person with you around.

 

You sit there in silence, staring at the half-eaten mochi you have no interest in touching anymore. Your brow furrows without you noticing. You don’t need to explain your relationship with Jongin. No one has the right to judge you, not when Jongin persistently showered you with affection when no one else cared enough to ask you out.

 

Junmyeon’s spoon clinks sharply against the edge of his bowl. “How has Jongin been treating you, really?” You don’t look at him, but he knows you’re still listening. “Has he been asking for something?”

 

You gulp. “Y-Yes, but it’s normal for someone like him to want…” You look around fearfully, dropping your voice even though the nearest occupied table is all the way across the room. “Sex. It’s my responsibility to reciprocate since he does so much for me already.”

 

“Figures.” Junmyeon checks his watch. The numbers glaze over his eyes as he stands up, not knowing nor caring what the time actually is.  “I have to go.”

 

You mutter a goodbye and cram your face with the rest of the mochi. You’re clearing this up with Jongin. Now.

 

**✁-  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -**

 

Stopping by Jongin’s house isn’t your thing. In fact, Jongin’s the one who claims he’s visiting a friend in the area when he crashes into your flat every other day. It’s gotten to the point where your flatmate teases you about your ‘overzealous boyfriend’. Well, it’s time for you to return the favor.

 

Most of your brain is telling you to flee, run away with your tail tucked away between your legs to save yourself some dignity. It wasn’t long at all since you last stood here, on his doorstep, trying to separate yourself from the underlying temptation with thick fabric layers. What are you even trying to prove now? What possible reason could you have for not wearing any underwear?

 

You pace outside of that door, your head filled with clashing thoughts that have your ears ringing. Minutes later, when you realize you look ready to break into Jongin’s house instead of visit, you gather up the courage to knock. Three times, firmly; that’s how you were taught, that’s how you always did it, and Jongin should be coming shortly. You wait.

 

And you wait.

 

Right. You really should’ve called instead of rushing over in the blaze of glory. He’s probably out with his friends. You’re hard pressed to exaggerate how often Jongin’s all over you, but even he takes time to himself. You shove your hand deep in your pockets, fingers brushing over your phone’s home button. Just one call and you’ll have what you want. No chance of coming back. Do you really want that? You turn to leave when-

 

The door swings open, showing off Jongin in his (almost) complete glory.

 

If you didn’t know any better you would’ve thought that Jongin did this completely on purpose. A towel wrapped around his hips, damp hair falling over his eyes, body still glistening as if he’d run through a field of dew instead of, y’know, taken a shower like a normal person. A person looking this good off-guard should be criminal.

 

“Oh, hey. Sorry, I was in the shower.” Jongin’s thoughtful tone shifts when his lips turn up into that signature smile of his. “Why’d you come over, babe?”

 

“We have to talk.”

 

Jongin pulls you in so fast that you hurtle into his chest. You apologize without thinking and cover your face to hide your burning embarrassment. You expect a sarcastic quip but you shriek pitifully when Jongin sweeps you off your feet, one of his hands nestled firmly on your butt. Oh god, he can tell, can’t he? It’s not padded enough. Why did your boyfriend choose to carry you now of all times!?

 

It takes getting lowered onto a soft surface and having your fingers pried away from your face for you to look anywhere near Jongin. You vaguely realize that you’re in an unfamiliar room, but considering that you’re on a bed, it’s obvious where Jongin took you. His hand pats your back with care.

 

“What did you want to talk about?” His smile is soft. So soft. Jongin couldn’t be a bad influence on you.

 

“I… I think I’m ready for you, now.”

 

For a few milliseconds he’s confused. Then, his smile grows. His hand sails smoothly down your back and onto the back of your pants. He gives the tiniest, teasing squeeze. You’re fully clothed, but this is the most exposed you’ve felt in your life.

 

“Are you absolutely sure about this? I mean, I’m happy, but…” Jongin’s so much more uncertain than you thought he’d be. No condescending words, no stupid yells like ‘Finally!’. If your mind wasn’t made up already, it is now. “If you do this, there’s no going back.”

 

This may be the stupidest decision of your life, but you don’t care. You lean in and give Jongin the biggest kiss you can muster. His tongue slips in and he’s pushing you. You’ve barely made contact with the mattress when you feel him on top of you, his hands- everywhere, rubbing down your sides or running over your cheek or reaching down to palm at your steadily stiffening crotch.

 

You want the kiss to go on forever, existing in this state of euphoria where you’re the only thing that matters to Jongin. Where he’s the only thing that matters to you. Your lungs are burning, but you push through. You don’t need air. You don’t, you don’t, you don’t, you don’t- The rush of oxygen stings with each ragged breath you take, but it’s nothing compared to the fire burning within you, telling you to get your lips back onto Jongin’s right this fucking moment.

 

Jongin moves away before you can grab him, causing you to whine pitifully.  His laughter is huskier, coming out in short bursts between panting breaths. “Take your clothes off.”

 

Your fingers have never been quicker (or shakier, for that matter), fumbling over your buttons. It’s taking you too long. You’re just about ready to rip your shirt off of you when the last button pops free, finally. You wrench it off of your shoulders, throwing it to the floor with unnecessary force. Your pants are gone in equal speed, joining your shirt in a crumpled pile.

 

The wait is unbearable. You’re used to watching from afar, fantasizing about what Jongin could do to you, but it’s so difficult when Jongin’s in the same room and _naked_. No matter how much you look, you can’t find a single flaw on his body. When he turns around with some… things in his hand you don’t really recognize, your eyes are drawn to the real prize.

 

There really isn’t any appropriate way to say it aside from: Jongin’s dick is big.

 

“You like it? It’ll be inside of you soon enough.”

 

Well, at least there’s no question about what position he wants. He’s going to split you in half and you know already _you’re going to love every second of it_. Your stomach is a mess of knots and butterflies, your veins running hot with… fear? Shame? Lust? Your frazzled brain can’t make sense of any of it. Only one coherent thought surfaces; you need Jongin to touch you. That’s all you need right now.

 

You reach for him. He tosses what he’s holding near you, but by the time your muddled brain realizes that it’s a condom and lube, Jongin’s already sliding his way onto you. You’ve felt his body a million times before but never bare like this. He’s hard. Your cock throbs against his abs and you can swear Jongin chuckles. He stops briefly when you’re face to face.

 

“You’re gorgeous.” Jongin whispers before hurtling into your second passionate kiss.

 

This time, however, Jongin isn’t satisfied with your mouth. While your hands are desperate, clutching onto any random bit of Jongin they could find, his hand is snaking down your body. Even though you expect it, you shudder when his hand wraps around your length. One pump rips a moan from your throat, which Jongin swallows up by deepening the kiss. While you don’t succeed in stifling your moans completely, you keep your voice level. That is, until you feel Jongin pumping his _against_ yours.

 

With most of your breath expelled with each moan Jongin coaxes out of you, it isn’t long before you push Jongin off. Your chest heaves, your eyes are clenched shut- you vaguely feel Jongin sliding off of you entirely, but you’re too embarrassed to check. It’s only been a few minutes and you’ve made noises you never thought you were capable of. Even when you convince yourself to open your eyes they don’t go all the way, half-lidded sight letting you realize that Jongin has moved his face to between your legs.

 

“Wh-what are you doi-”

 

Your words catch at the back of your throat when Jongin licks a long stripe up your member. You’re on the verge of tears when you hear Jongin laughing again, but he quickly clarifies himself before your rampant emotions can fill in the wrong thing.

 

“You’re really loud. I like that.” Although your stomach still feels like a furnace, some part of it settles down a bit. There’s a weird feeling in your chest, almost like… wonder? You swear you’ve been doing everything wrong so far. “So fucking beautiful.”

 

You gulp. “A-Am I being too loud?”

 

“Not loud enough.”

 

You sputter when Jongin wraps his lips around your tip. It’s soft and warm and wet and even though he isn’t moving, it feels heavenly already. He’s staring at you purposefully, makes sure you’re seeing- and feeling- every single second as he goes lower. Every time you think he’s going to stop, that suction comes back, inching down lower to the tune of your moans. His tongue and lips provide this friction that goes along with the softness and it’s driving you mad. By the time he has your entire length in his mouth and down his throat, your head is flat against the mattress, vision swimming with vibrant sparks from clenching your eyes too tightly.

 

Then, just like that, Jongin raises his head off with a wet _pop_ , leaving you twitching and wanting more.

 

Instead of moving back toward you he playfully skirts around the edge of the bed, grabbing the lube but curiously not the condom. He drizzles it all over his hand. Unfamiliar with what he’s doing, you don’t understand when his fingertip prods at your hole. Jongin doesn’t answer your wordless question, instead pushing forward with a single command. “Relax.”

 

It burns. His finger is vaguely slippery, but that doesn’t change the fact that it’s up your ass. You do the exact opposite of what Jongin says- no matter how much you tell yourself to obey, your body refuses. You expect annoyance, but all you find in Jongin’s face is careful support. He understands. Deep breaths. The burn lessens and Jongin’s wriggles more of his finger in.

 

Everything slows to a crawl, but each time you doubt yourself, Jongin’s there with reassuring words, telling you that you’re doing well for someone with no experience. You’re tightening up again, but not because of pain. At first it’s a tingle you chalk up to your confused body. Then it spreads and your limbs feel funny. When Jongin really starts moving, that’s when the feeling flares up. It feels _good_.

 

Before you get too happy about that, though, Jongin sticks his second finger in and it’s the entire process all over again. Stretching, burning pain, then tingling pleasure as Jongin slowly works his way in, lightly scraping against your walls until your legs start quivering. After what feels like an eternity of struggling and constantly telling yourself to relax, Jongin has two fingers knuckle deep. Considering where they are already you’re confused why he’s moving them. That is, until-

 

Your body convulses as a spike of pleasure drives itself through you. What… what did he touch? You try to sit up, try to figure it out, but Jongin’s next push robs you of all your strength. You fall, back hitting the mattress in time with the next surge of pleasure, shooting up your spine like electricity. “J-Jong- Hnnngh!” You try and fail to call out his proper name. In between his constant pressing you can’t even squeeze out two syllables. “Kai!” He pauses with a knowing smile. “What are you t-touching!?”

 

“Your prostate.”

 

“Is it supposed to do that?”

 

Jongin’s answer comes in the form of two fingers mashing without any mercy. Up until now there was something coiling up in your stomach, like an iron rope that kept your muscles taut. Each push makes the rope tighter and tighter until you can barely breathe, screaming only to cut yourself off with another one. Then, finally, the rope snaps.

 

With a massive moan, your back arches right off of the mattress and you come. Milky white streaks paint your belly, some reaching as far as your chest, but Jongin refuses to stay still. He times it; your cock twitches, you shoot and another burst of pleasure comes from your ass. Again and again again. He waits until you’re completely dry, mewling pitifully as your aching balls struggle to put out more. Your voice and strength peter out, you fall- or more accurately, collapse- and you don’t even notice when Jongin slips his fingers out of you.

 

After the brief afterglow passes you’re hit with one thing: tiredness. Your legs feel like jelly and you didn’t move them much. Your arms are sore from hanging on to the headboard for dear life. Your throat is sore from screaming so much. Jongin must be feeling the same way and oh my god you didn’t actually do anything for Jongin. Your eyes snap open and you see him still in the room, hard and ready to go; he’s slipping on the condom already.

 

As leaden as your limbs feel, you haven’t done ‘that’ yet. You’re sensitive and achy but your blood is still pumping, thrumming with excitement. Your heart starts beating faster when you roll over. By the time you actually find yourself on all fours, your cheeks are redder than they were this entire time. There’s a thrill, a buzz, knowing that this is the first time you’re acting for yourself, offering to do something for Jongin rather than following along.

 

When his hands settle on your hips you can’t help but shiver. They’re not rough, not overly demanding. Firm. Strong. He doesn’t need to say anything for you to feel how much he appreciates what you’re doing. Something a lot thicker than his finger settles against your entrance. Deep breaths, just like earlier.

 

There’s no real warning. When the pressure starts, that’s it. You strain to open up, but when you do, everything sort of slides into place. Problem is, it burns. Oh god, it burns. You claw at the headboard, the pillow, the blunt pain from your nails nothing compared to what’s really making you groan. He’s barely inside of you and already it’s too much. You straddle the line between continuing and having him pull out, teetering on your not-so-great pain tolerance level.

 

Jongin’s hands trail across your back. Comforting. It’s a bit hard to concentrate on, but it’s a much better alternative. Eventually, the pain fades away enough that you’re ready to go on. When you stutter out that he can go deeper, you expect a fresh bout of pain and more horrible waiting. Except… that doesn’t happen. Jongin’s a lot thicker than his two fingers and you swear he’s getting thicker the deeper he goes, but you can’t call what you feel pain. Pleasure? No, it’s not really that either. This is the most lightheaded you’ve been since… five minutes ago.

 

When Jongin’s hips finally make contact, you feel absolutely stuffed. You’re far from an expert on these things being the previous Virgin of the Year for most of your life, but you don’t need a comparison to say conclusively: Jongin’s dick is big. You can feel all of him, every ridge and vein. Just when you think you have everything memorized, muscles wrapped snugly around him, he _grinds_ into you, hitting spots you didn’t know you had inside of you.

 

Grinding is the least of your worries. Jongin’s impatient, drawing his hips back suddenly. You barely have time to look over your shoulder when he slams back into you, driving your entire body forward. You would be more scared of the headboard inches away from your face or concerned about your wobbly arms giving way, but you can’t think much of anything. Your hips move by themselves, crashing backward. For the first time, Jongin growls and pulls your hips back even more.

 

It’s like orgasming again but so much more active and violent, meaty smacks and ragged moans from both of you filling the room. It comes to the point where you dread those tiny slivers of emptiness whenever Jongin pulls anywhere out of you. You’re always filled seconds later, but that doesn’t matter.  Each second that Jongin isn’t hilted entirely in your body is agony. Jongin’s rampant thrusts angle differently once and your left arm gives way. You try your best to get back on it, but Jongin purposely continues at that angle. You faceplant, screaming as you’re overwhelmed. Forget iron rope or butterflies, your entire body is being ravaged by a tornado.

 

You try to warn Jongin that you’re close, but all that comes out are incoherent babbles that even you don’t understand. Jongin seems to get the message though, gripping your hips tighter and hammering away at you even faster. You come, but so does Jongin, warmth blossoming inside of you. He leans over your back, just as sweaty and breathless as you are.

 

“You were amazing, babe.”

 

Jongin gets off of you carefully, but even though he’s up and about you’re totally wrecked. You can’t turn your head, can’t roll over, can’t even lower your butt even though your legs give an indistinct protest that you’re still using them. You nearly doze off in that position, but Jongin has enough foresight to help you lay down like a normal person. It stings… somewhere, but you’re drifting off, sinking into the inky black of deep sleep.

 

**-✁ -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -**

 

When you wake up, your body is unnaturally stiff. It’s like you ran a marathon five or six times. Granted, you always feel that way after sleeping during the wrong part of the day, but it doesn’t usually feel like someone left a pile of needles underneath you when you try to sit up. After some half-hearted struggles you allow yourself to be bedridden for the little while. Now that you’re less concerned about getting up you can hear things. People. Jongin, in particular. The door’s open by a crack, so it’s not completely muffled but not incredibly audible either.

 

“-came over with no underwear. Plus he’s _really_ sensitive. You wouldn’t expect it from him.”

 

“I expected it. He’s so repressed I’m surprised he doesn’t melt whenever you touch him.” The other voice is… Baekhyun’s? What’s he doing over at this hour? “If you weren’t all over him I would’ve loved to pop his cherry.”

 

“Well, now you have your chance.” Your heart skips a beat.

 

“What? After all that time you spent on him? I thought you were finally going to settle!”

 

“He’s a nice guy and all and well…” Jongin’s voice drops, frustratingly. You force yourself to crawl to the edge of the bed, straining to hear what he’s saying. “I have the whole world in front of me. People, places, plans. I don’t think what we have makes sense.”

 

It’s not sadness that pangs from your heart and crawls up your left arm. It’s a tingling numbness, a contradiction cocktail that leaves you feeling empty even as tears rush to your eyes. Rejection. You could’ve dealt with that. Could’ve dealt with a person refusing to love you. No, this isn’t rejection. You had the high ground and you gave it all away because of some stupid whim. For all of his touches, all he wanted was sex. For all of his closeness he never took you out anywhere. For all of his affection, he never told you he loved you.

 

It’s hard to breathe. You have to get out of here- and no, you aren’t dealing with a walk of shame. You ignore your protesting tailbone and make your way to the edge of the bed, where your clothes still lay. You snag your pants and grab your phone out of them. The tears make everything blurry. Wrong password. Wrong password. You shake your phone in frustration before wiping your eyes. You give a choked sob when it finally opens.

 

You scroll right to a certain person’s name. Call? Text? In a split decision, you press the call button. Jongin and Baekhyun are still talking, but you can’t hear them over the dialling tone. You refuse to hear them. It’s taking long. Jongin’s probably going to walk in, probably going to lie again-

 

 _Click._ “Hello?”

 

“Junmyeon, you were right.”

 

The deep, crackling sigh from the other end is tinged with understanding. He already knows. “About what?”

 

“Please pick me up. I’m at Jongin’s house and I...” A fresh wave of sadness rolls over you, crushing your chest again. “Please. The address is-”

 

“I don’t need it. I’m coming over.”

 

You don’t question it. Even though you’re stumbling and you probably shouldn’t be walking this early, you put your clothes on. You hope they don’t reek of sex. The edge of the bed is where you wait, holding your head in your hands as your thoughts trickle through the mental dams you put up. Thin needles of anger, slow but powerful rams of hate, crashing waves of underlying sadness and most irritating of all, hope. And want. You’re sick in the head. Jongin said he doesn’t want to stay with you and yet your fragmented heart still longs for him.

 

When Junmyeon arrives you can tell, mainly from the surprised hollers from the two outside. He doesn’t say much back to them. You expect him to at least explain himself or ask where you are, but he does neither. Loud footsteps are the only warning you get before the door is flung open. Junmyeon fast to your side, hiding all of the disgust he must be feeling.

 

“Can you walk?”

 

You nod and get up shakily. You hang onto Junmyeon’s arm for dear life and shield your hand with your face. Jongin and Baekhyun know who you are, they’re not stupid. Still, it gives you some peace of mind as their stares bore into your skin. Makes you think you have at least some sort of dignity. However- that part that still wants Jongin is getting louder and louder. Do you really have any dignity left?

 

You don’t want to talk. You just want to go home. Sleep again. Sort everything out so maybe you won’t fall the next time you see Jongin. Junmyeon has other ideas, though. When he helps you into the front seat of his car and he hops into the driver seat and starts up the engine, you don’t go anywhere.

 

“I know you don’t want to talk about this, but I’m warning you now. Don’t get close to Jongin ever again.” He puts his hands on the steering wheel with a white-knuckled grip. “I don’t know what I would… I’d regret it if you get hurt like this. There are better people for you.”

 

You know that. You’re a realistic and logical person most of the time even if you’re not usually an ideologist. But your mind floods with last night’s passion, the way his eyes drank all of you in, the feel of his lips against- You can’t take it. You turn a pleading look to Junmyeon.

 

“Please take me home.”


	3. D.O. - A Lighter Way To Live

The first several days are the easiest. No matter how sad you are, you have classes to attend, activities to plan and, most importantly, efforts to stop the so-called punishment games. Without Jongin in your way, all of that becomes trivial. You’re no longer running on an explosive timer, so you can do whatever you want whenever you want and not confine yourself to a certain classroom or wing of the school. You see Jongin around sometimes, but he’s more interested in other people.

 

Who are you kidding?

 

The first several days are the hardest. While Jongin hasn’t found a new target yet, he makes no effort to chase or stay away from you. He’s just… there. In the seat behind you or in the same row or sometimes just one person over. It’s maddening. The professor drones on about the effects of asphyxiation on the human body, but you’re the one who’s running out of air. Every time Jongin moves you expect him to reach over, maybe shove the person next to you out so he can sit closer to you- but he never does. You want to cry in frustration, but your reputation gets in your way. You want to talk it over, figure it out, but your dignity forces you to stay still in your seat.

 

Things get a little better after the first week. For one, you’ve made up your mind about what to do with Jongin. The unfortunate thing is, it’s the exact opposite of what Junmyeon wants. You’re not bold enough to approach Jongin, not when he has every opportunity and every right to refuse, even before you factor in Junmyeon’s disapproval. No, you have a much better idea; you’re going to approach him through one of his friends, D.O.

 

Granted, it’s a little bit harder to find him. He doesn’t share any of your classes (you think he’s in a different course entirely) and he doesn’t roam the halls or hang out in empty classes like the other members. There is one thing you do know, though. He eats in the cafeteria. He’s always there before you, all the way at the front of the line, leaving leisurely with a plate of spaghetti. This time, however, you watch where he goes.

 

When he stops at a table you crane your neck to see who’s there. Although they’re facing away from you, they’re the only people with wild haircuts and hair colors. The people behind you look at you weirdly when you snort, but you couldn’t help it. EXO look like the protagonists of their own anime with crazy hair colors, the one you know is going to be the main character when everyone else looks like a poorly designed background character. From the hair alone you spot Xiumin and Chen. From a lucky turn of the head, you spot Baekhyun.

 

Four people. That’s… really bad. It’s hard to negotiate something without being too transparent about your actual goal around four different people who could pick apart what you say. Just as you sigh and resolve to catch D.O. earlier next time, you see that he doesn’t settle there. The only other table with EXO members is all the way on the other side of the room. You don’t want to look over. Jongin and Sehun are there, probably still scrolling through their phones. You know full well that they were ignoring everyone, but the sting wasn’t any less when you went past them.

 

Thankfully, D.O. takes a table all for himself. You grab your usual salad and make a beeline straight for him. Your speed captures the attention of schoolmates for roughly five seconds before they lose all interest. The only person who continues to stare, and quite rightly, is your target. You set your tray on the table and give him the best of your polite smiles. “Can I sit here?”

 

“Don’t you usually sit with the vice president?”

 

“Well, you can consider this a follow-up to the committee offer if you’re concerned about formalities.” It’s easy to have a carefree attitude when you’re literally there to be his friend. “Doesn’t have to be so formal, though.”

 

D.O. gives in surprisingly easy, letting you scoot into the seat next to his. At first talk is slow, mainly because D.O. isn’t like his more outspoken members. He’s very quiet, which means you have to lead the conversation- which more often than not collides with a dead end. It’s only when you bring up the topic of music that he lights up. You almost forget that you’re purely using him to get close to Jongin… Wow, that sounds bad. No, you’re genuinely going to be D.O.’s friend now. You’re just not going to forget about your original goal while doing so.

 

While you’re in the middle of dissecting a rap song you both enjoy (struggling to piece together the meaning behind the English lyrics), out of nowhere someone sits on the other side of your table. You’re about to tell them off for being rude when you’re given a good dose of Chanyeol’s own curious face. Right. You’re the intruder here. You should’ve known it was odd that D.O. was alone, especially when Chanyeol was unaccounted for.

 

“Funny seeing you here. Kai not enough for you? Don’t waste any time with this one.” Chanyeol’s quip makes the slight smile D.O. had fade effortlessly. In fact, his eyes lock into a devastating stare that Chanyeol just brushes off. He reaches for your hand, which you slink off of the table. “I’m in the same classes as you. Maybe next time I’ll sit near you so you aren’t just drooling over Kai.”

 

As annoyed as you are, D.O. takes the issue head-on before you can even think of what to say back. “I think if he was interested he’d have approached you instead of me.”

 

“Nah, I’m sure he was waiting for me to come around.”

 

In the interest of defusing the situation and preventing D.O. from murdering Chanyeol inside the school during school hours- you couldn’t care less about another time or place, however- you cut in with your own little statement of fact.

 

“I’m still very much interested in Jongin, thank you very much. It just so happens that I’m also interested in making D.O.’s acquaintance.”

 

D.O.’s face goes back to its normal impassiveness, but somehow you feel like you let him down. You have no time to question it, not when Chanyeol’s already sulking at the two-pronged attack.

 

“Y’know, for someone who says they want to help and connect with me, you really don’t seem like you actually want that.” You frown. He… has a point there. “Should I just leave? Should I go?”

 

“No!” You clear your throat, displeased at how genuinely desperate you sounded. You want to help all members of EXO become upstanding citizens, even if they’re somewhat annoying. Your lovelife, while important and incredibly confusing at the moment, shouldn’t be stopping you from connecting to the rougher folk. “You’re a rapper, right? Let’s just talk about rap music. And, uh, not flirt. Are we alright with that?”

 

Chanyeol huffs but sits down anyway. “Okay, I guess.”

 

Roughly a week passes since then. Seven days since the awkward three-way conversation that had you struggling for common ground. Six days since you found a comfortable little niche where you could all relate. Three days since you heard Chanyeol rapping, and he’s pretty damn good. This day, however, is a lot more different.

 

For one, Chanyeol’s running late. And by that you mean he came into the cafeteria, you mentioned the paper that was due and he took off running. That leaves you alone with D.O., who’s a lot quieter than usual. Ever since you got into a more regular, more friendly pace, the shyness he had melted away. It’s not shyness now, he’s deliberately shutting down your efforts to speak with one word answers.

 

Right as you’re going to tear your hair out in frustration, he sighs and leans back into his seat. “You slept with Kai, didn’t you?”

 

Even though he said that in the quietest possible voice you make frantic shushing motions. You’re worried that the other table, which was totally engrossed in their own conversation, heard everything. You shout-whisper at D.O. in anger.

 

“Where did you get that information!?”

 

“It’s kind of obvious. When he gets what he wants, he dumps them and starts looking for a new person. Kai hasn’t said anything to you in a week.” You start to protest, only for D.O. to raise his hand and cut you off. “Whenever we sit together you manage to bring up Kai at some point in the conversation. You still want him.”

 

Your face is hot and red enough to pass for a ripe tomato. “So what if I do?”

 

“I don’t know if he’d be interested in doing anything with you again.”

 

Your heart sinks. D.O. knows Jongin very well, so for him to say that he’s doubtful makes you question your chances from the start. At first it was anxiety holding you back from talking to Jongin, but with this warning you’re too crushed to try. All worries of looking pathetic are replaced with worries surrounding D.O.’s less than convenient knowledge of your troubles. You don’t need to ask to know that he figured it out a while ago.

 

“You think… I have no chance?”

 

D.O. furrows his brow and stays silent, but no matter how much you want him to spit it out, you have nothing that could possibly make him go any faster. The cafeteria is packed as always, but despite the hustle and bustle and the students nearby (in Nursing, you think) screaming about something, it’s crushingly silent. You watch D.O.’s lips, willing them to open, to say something, _anything_ -

 

“I’m going to make a serious proposition. Don’t get offended, don’t misunderstand. All you have to say is yes or no.”

 

D.O.’s stony expression offers no cracks or tells for you to discern what he means. Your voice is shaky, but you press on nonetheless. “Go ahead.”

 

“I don’t know what you’re looking to get out of Kai. If it’s a relationship, he probably isn’t going to listen. I can’t provide that. If it’s sex… I can do that. I don’t mind if you pretend I’m Kai, but sex is as far as I’m willing to go.”

 

You want so badly to tell him no, you’re not cheapening what you’re looking for, but it’s been too long since Jongin even acknowledged you exist. A few months ago you thought hell was constantly being in the spotlight, batting away a rabid fan like you were an idol. Now you know that the real hell is having that and wanting it back. Still… you’re not actually getting Jongin back if you agree.

 

You close your eyes and it’s as if Jongin’s imprinted on the back of your eyelids, cocky and boastful and beautiful as always. You feel slightly guilty replacing D.O. in your head, but he asked for this. You reach over to your side. A warm hand lands on yours. Softer than Jongin’s, but it’s close. Running your fingers over the lines you nearly forget yourself, entranced by the notion that you’re doing this to Jongin, that he’s letting you, that he cares about you-

 

Your eyes snap open. No. You’re deluding yourself, crawling further into this pit that Junmyeon warned you about just because your first relationship didn’t go so well. Your hand feels leaden and, now that you’ve stood up, so do your feet. You don’t have enough air or willpower to speak. The hallway beckons to you, the nearest 'safe' place you think of. Anywhere but the cafeteria. You leave everything behind, leave without saying anything. You need to calm down and _breathe_.

 

At least, that was the plan. If your lungs felt tight before, your chest is caught in a hydraulic press, splattering your heart everywhere. Jongin’s walking away from you, arm slung over the shoulders of someone- a girl, you think, despite her masculine frame- and over the protests of Baekhyun, who you don’t seem to see but is probably just hanging around in some other part of the hallway. You whimper and turn right back around.

 

You sit right back down at the seat you just left. D.O. doesn’t question it. You’re intensely grateful for that. You don’t want to burst into tears right now. Not with everyone watching. When the tears finally go away, unshed, you grab D.O.’s hand again. “My answer is yes.”

 

There isn’t any fumbling or any sign of surprise. The way his fingers move deftly around yours are a lot like Jongin’s, sure and precise. It’s a lot less passionate, a bit more on the clinical side, but it’s the best alternative you have for now. The both of you sit there, not even touching your food, taking in the implications of what you agreed to. D.O.’s going to fuck you. Maybe even today.

 

You nearly have a heart attack when someone touches your shoulder from behind, a brief spot of hope making you think that it’s Jongin, come back to protect his property- but of course it’s not. It’s Chanyeol, who laughs as he sits across from you. He saw your hands. There’s no way he didn’t.

 

“Getting close, huh? Is this ‘friendship holding hands’ now?” Chanyeol’s sneer gets on your nerves at the best of times. This has to be the worst time for it to pop up. “I want in on it. D.O. can sit this one out. I wanna hold your hands, pres.”

 

To your surprise D.O.’s the fastest to react, skirting around the table to grab Chanyeol by the elbow. There’s a violent aura radiating off of him and you get an inkling of what he’s going to do, but… sometimes Chanyeol has to learn the hard way. You turn a blind eye to it and allow Chanyeol to be dragged away, to the hallway. Now, how likely is it that Chanyeol is going to finish that cupcake on his tray after being beaten…?

 

**\--✁-  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -**

 

It doesn’t happen immediately. In fact, it takes a while for either of you to even broach the topic again. You’re closer now. There’s the implicit, foggy haze of you pretending that D.O.’s Jongin, but you enjoy the quiet moments nonetheless. D.O. made it sound like he was against anything resembling a relationship, but in reality you’re doing more with him than you ever did with Jongin.

 

Heart-to-heart talks, shared interests, talking most of the time instead of touching. It’s not a rosy-eyed and rosy-cheeked frolic through the flowers like your flatmate wants to believe, more often than not while he’s literally wearing heart-shaped glasses. This is a lot more real. You find yourself caring for D.O. on a genuine level. But, as he said, this isn’t a solid relationship. Neither of you want that. The both of you can’t wait any longer.

 

The summer sun is just about setting, casting a baleful orange over the clouds, like fluffy bits of citrus meringue. The dying light shines on your back as you depart, highlighting the light pink hoodie your flatmate forced you to wear on your ‘date’. At least you have a place to shove your hands inside while you walk.

 

D.O.’s house is a lot more modest than Jongin’s, a decently aged abode with accents of a bygone era but with newer, more modern touches. You stroll up to the door and knock, only then realizing you don’t know how quickly you’re going to slip into this… little roleplay. How soon is D.O. going to play Jongin? Is he going to open the door with a towel wrapped around your waist? You’re wearing underwear this time. He doesn’t have an upper floor to carry you up to. Is D.O. even strong enough to carry you? You’ve never seen his body underneath all that clothing. Maybe he has really good abs.

 

“Hey.” You nearly jump out of your skin when you realize that the door’s wide open, with D.O. standing questioningly in the doorway. You don’t respond, at least, not until you can figure out whether he’s being D.O. or Jongin. “Come in.”

 

That’s… ambiguous, but you figure Jongin would be more ambitious with his invitation while D.O. looks like he’s keeping solely to his cool demeanor. Your suspicions are confirmed when the first place he leads you to isn’t his bedroom, but the kitchen, where you see he’s prepared lemonade for some reason. You’ve only recently read up on foreplay but the popular aphrodisiacs were wine and chocolate. You’ll have to look up whether lemonade is an aphrodisiac or not if you remember.

 

The lemonade is light and refreshing and by that you mean cold and empty, a sour liquid that barely distracts you from the fact that you’re going to have sex for the second time in your life and it’s not with Jongin. You can’t take it anymore. You set your glass down with a hard thunk, interrupting D.O. in the middle of a sentence you hadn’t heard at all.

 

“We need to do this now.” You whisper.

 

“Excuse me?”

 

“Fuck me, Kai.”

 

Before you know it, your hoodie’s being dragged up and off of you, with such speed that you’re almost sure that D.O.’s just going to rip it off. You straighten your arms, save the hoodie from irreparable damage (and yourself from the barrage of angry questions your flatmate would’ve thrown at you), but that leaves you wide open for D.O. to swoop in. Lips. Not against yours, but against your neck. Gentle, feather-light, just like Jongin but… but at the wrong time. You close your eyes and focus. Jongin’s just trying out something new.

 

Forceful. Aggressive, even. Teeth dragging over your vein, stopping occasionally to tease you. Sometimes he nips you there, jolts of pain sending tingles down your neck. Sometimes it’s just grazing, teeth rubbing over that spot again and again. Other times it’s nothing but hot air, leaving you keening for contact even if it’s painful.

 

The teeth move away but the hands come closer, one settling right on your throat while the other one grabs the edge of your pants. You’re afraid that they’re going to be forced all the way off of you when you feel a hard yank. Instead of fabric pooling around your legs, however, he leaves it to cling desperately to your hips. The slightest bit of pressure on your throat is enough to distract you from the other one’s course. The small lurch of fear grows so much bigger when he shoves his hand into your underwear. You’re afraid, so why are you this hard already!?

 

“Let’s take this to the bedroom before I end up fucking you over the kitchen counter.”

 

You almost don’t want to open your eyes and spoil the fantasy, but you also don’t want to run blindly into a wall and give yourself a concussion, so you do it anyway. D.O. managed to partially unbutton his shirt sometime during the fray (props to him) and he’s already walking off. You get out of your pants hurriedly and chase after him in nothing but your underwear, trying your hardest not to get embarrassed over your tip peeking over the waistband.

 

The room you enter is stuffy and it’s neat and as much as you would like to inspect it further you’re far too horny to give a shit. D.O. seems to recognize this and hands you the lube from the get-go. You were a blushing, hesitant virgin once. You don’t know how you got so desensitized, but right now all you need is someone to touch you, to relive that experience and get rid of the itch that’s been inside of you since then- aaaaand you think you know how it happened now.

 

You toss your underwear off before you get onto the bed. You’re all confident when you drizzle the liquid all over your fingers, but when it comes to actually stretching yourself out… You take a deep breath. Imagination. That’s what you need now. Jongin’s here, preparing you again. If you focus enough you can hear him cooing, soothing you down from the sting. That’s one finger. Jongin’s whispering in your ear again, telling you how good you are, how well you’re doing. There’s a pang of sadness from your chest, but that’s finger number two. What emotional turmoil? You don’t know what that is.

 

You open your eyes when the mattress dips, coming face to- well, abs- and you’re shocked. While he isn’t quite the perfect chiseled and sculpted Adonis that Jongin is, he still has an amazing body. You hide behind your layers for a reason, but D.O. has nothing to be ashamed of. And yeah, technically you have nothing to be ashamed of either, but you’re insecure enough to sleep with someone in the place of someone else so maybe it’s not as simple as you want it to be. You certainly didn’t think you’d be genuinely attracted to D.O.

 

There’s an inner intensity behind him that you would never expect. He’s disinterested most of the times, somewhat of a dork in the rare times he’s bashful, very capable of anger when Chanyeol acts up. But here, prone in his bedroom, with absolutely nothing between you, he has a smothering presence. Maybe- maybe you don’t need to keep obsessing over Jongin. It hurts, and a few seconds before getting fucked isn’t the best time for lifechanging decisions, but it’ll save you some sanity. D.O. doesn’t want a relationship and you have a deal. You’re not going to back out now. You… you want _him_.

 

“Do you need a blindfold?”

 

But, for now, you guess you can still make use of the lingering feelings one more time. “Sure.”

 

He tosses the strip toward you. Black, heavy and made of something very soft. Velvet? It’s impossible to tie it over your head with just one hand and you’d rather not touch what’s going on your face with the hand that’s been up your ass. “Um, could you help?”

 

Deft hands take the blindfold from you, tying it around your face with ease. Funny how when you can’t see anything your eyes want to be wide open. No light filters through, so no matter how wide your stretch your eyes you can’t see anything but the black velvet fuzz. Your hand’s starting to cramp given your awkward position, so you slide out of yourself. Just as you do that, two fingers jab into you with no warning, making you choke on your spit.

 

“Kyungsoo-” You slap your hands over your mouth without thinking. You’re not on first name basis with him to begin with, but it’s made worse when you’re trying to keep up the deal. “Sorry.”

 

“Call me that out of the bedroom. And…” He grabs you by the chin roughly. “I’m Kai now, remember? Shouldn’t be any different from the last time we did it.”

 

You tense up at that, inadvertently setting yourself up to groan when D.O.- Jongin wiggles his fingers in more.

 

“Don’t go tightening up now, babe. There’s a lot more where that came from.”

 

You can feel the third finger playing around the edge of your rim, occasionally pushing, all too ready to stretch you more. Without your vision it’s a lot more anxiety-inducing, each scrape of his fingernail against your sensitive muscle causing you to tense up even more. Thanks to your experience you know not to have a panic attack and instead focus on breathing. The third finger makes its way inside and you falter for a second as you whimper, but after a while of harried breaths it’s completely inside of you.

 

Instead of going for the prostate like last time, the fingers simply work their way in and out. Sure, they’re rubbing against your walls and you’re hard as a rock, but they aren’t doing anything specific except for stretching you out. Your shoulders relax- they’ve been clenched all this time, you now realize- and at that little sign of preparedness the fingers are gone. You know exactly what’s being positioned next, but damn if you aren’t utterly terrified. It’s massive.

 

And no, you’re not saying that just because you’re blind and a near fresh virgin. You know what it felt like when Jongin pressed against you the first time. D.O.’s so much thicker just at the head that you can’t even pretend they’re the same person. You’re actually shaking, scared that this’ll be the part where you rip something, or you’ll start bleeding somewhere, the thought of crimson red making you shudder unusually. You’re still hard despite the fear. Ugh, why are you twitching so much?

 

“I need to ask your permission for something.”

 

You squirm uncomfortably, a billion ideas bouncing around in your head about what that could be. Does he have whips hidden around here? A collar? “Wh-What is it?”

 

“I’m going to put my hand around your throat. I’m not gonna squeeze, just… think of it as a distraction. If you focus on it, it’ll be a lot easier.”

 

“You sure?” Every vein you have is pulsing with scared excitement. He isn’t going to squeeze. Still, is it really worth it to have your neck in such a dangerous position? You realize that you’re asking that question with a blindfold on already. “You promise?”

 

“I promise.”

 

“...Go ahead.”

 

You jump when D.O.’s hand settles heavily across your neck, but quickly calm down when it does nothing more. He isn’t going to squeeze. You gulp and his fingers shift minutely. He can probably feel everything. Your pulse. Your anxious breaths. When he starts pushing in you know he can feel the thrum of your vocal cords, vibrating as you groan.

 

Every time you think it’s too much D.O. somehow knows, shifting your attention away from the massive beast splitting you apart by touching your neck in unexpected ways. Sometimes it’s a light cascade of taps when you’re in the middle of a moan. Sometimes it’s a sweep of the finger over your artery when he goes in too fast and you whine. Most often, though, it’s a teasing squeeze, almost no pressure at all but too much pressure at the same time. He uses those vulnerable moments when you’re off-guard to drive more of his meat in.

 

By the time his hips tap against your ass, you’re fuller than you’ve ever been. Jongin was longer, you think, but D.O. is so much _thicker_ that you can barely squeeze down on him without some real effort. Not that you have to do that anyway- the hand that’s not on your neck is on your nipple. You find the choice odd considering that you’re very clearly needy down there. A sudden flick on your nub makes you gasp, but it’s the pinch that has you reeling. You try to get up, maybe try to pry the fingers off to stop the sting, but you barely get anywhere. You’re dragged right back down to the mattress by your throat and your heart explodes with panic.

 

Your hands instinctively reach for your throat because oh god you can’t breathe, it doesn’t hurt, but you can’t breathe- D.O. slams his hips into you with a long grunt, forcing a choked moan out of you. The pressure on your throat goes away and instead of continuing like you thought he would, the blindfold’s lifted off of your head. D.O.’s still lodged between your legs, but at least he looks concerned enough.

 

“S-Sorry. I got too excited there. Should we stop?”

 

Your hand goes for your throat as you gulp. It’s slightly tender, but there’s no lingering pain. Plus… plus… you really enjoyed it. Throughout the entire experience, terrifying as it was, you never softened in the slightest. “Do you do this often?”

 

“Choking? Yes.”

 

When you gulp, your Adam’s apple seems five times heavier. “Is it safe?”

 

“Let’s put it this way. There is a lot of risk involved, but I promise-” He pushes your leg back, making you gasp, but it’s when he moves his own leg that he slides just a little bit deeper into you. Damnit, it’s hard to think clearly when it’s so _good_. “You’ll enjoy it.”

 

“I’m not an i-idiot.” He’s still moving his hips. Your thoughts are foggy and you’re fumbling over your words. “How do you make sure you don’t kill me?”

 

“Tap my arm. Or my hand. We stop immediately. We can call everything off. We can pretend this never happened, if that’s what you want.”

 

You can’t believe you’re saying this, but after thinking about it you’ve decided that no, you don’t want all of this to go away. Maybe… maybe if you stick around D.O. long enough he’ll open up to you. Open up to a relationship. He’s charming. And lovable. With adorable cheeks. And, of course, the biggest dick you’ve ever seen.

 

“I want to keep going. And I don’t want to pretend you’re Kai anymore.”

 

“Really?” The soft surprise in his eyes would’ve melted your heart had it not been for the fact that it’s been banging against your sternum for the last five minutes or so. “Well, I’ll give you all I’ve got, then.” He leans down to whisper into your ear. “I’ll make you forget every bit of Kai.”

 

The pressure on your throat is gradual, slowly tightening around your throat remarkably evenly, but from the start it’s too much. D.O.’s leisurely rocking his hips, but every little tingle from your insides is magnified. What barely gave you pause before is now lighting up your body in bursts of electric pleasure. The latent fear makes you waste air before he’s even forced it out of your airways, but when it finally happens you want to scream.

 

You don’t get anywhere near a scream. Spilling out of your mouth are gagging, almost clacking noises, something you recognize shamefully. It’s the sound someone with a cock down their throat makes. In that case, though, there’s something stretching their throat wide open. Here, with watery and blurred eyes, you swear your throat’s shut. How are making the same, utterly perverse sound?

 

Your will to resist fades in and out, constantly questioning yourself if this is too much or if you really need to take a breath before D.O. crushes all semblance of thought with a heavy thrust. Now that he’s giving it his all, you’re barely hanging on. Everything’s visceral, so _intense_ that your body understands but your mind doesn’t, shortcircuiting as each hammer makes your ass and throat hurt. The pain is sharp but short, quickly losing itself into the sea of pleasure, but by that time he’s given you another. There is no time to process, no time to understand, no time to breathe.

 

It doesn’t take long. There’s no slow build-up or any chance for you to realize until it’s far too late. Your toes curl and your back arches. You give a soundless moan, your eyes rolling back ever so slightly. You barely manage to tap at D.O.’s arm while you come, splattering yourself with seed. You’re just in time, too. While you’re heaving and huffing, warmth blossoms inside of you. You can barely see, both because of the oxygen deprivation and because you have your arm over your eyes, but D.O.’s hair, down over his forehead and matted with sweat- it gives you one last thrill before the excitement wears off.

 

D.O. slips out of you, but instead of going off to shower, he simply rolls you onto your side and gets behind you. You appreciate the idea of the big spoon little spoon hug, but that’s clearly not what he has in mind. He slips back into you, making you groan both out of frustration and need. Your sensitivity’s off the charts, so even as tired as you are there’s a small tingle down there. When D.O. nibbles at your neck again you’re convinced he’s warming up to do it again and gulp, sucking in air while you can.

 

“I think I’ll fuck you again in the morning.”

 

And he does. And you love it.

 

**-—✁ -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -**

 

Days pass, each grueling day of schoolwork forgotten about during the evenings when you and D.O. have sex. You’ve barely started and you’ve already felt what it’s like to be choked by his hands- your favorite, so warm and personal and precise- by scarves, by a collar that D.O. said he got from Sehun, and by your own tie.

 

The last was the most humiliating. D.O. was pent up that day, probably as the result of Chanyeol or Baekhyun’s antics. Or both, really. When you came over he didn’t give you a chance to change. He practically flung you onto the bed and ripped your pants off. Told you not to take off your shirt. Your ear still tingles hot when you remember what he said.

 

“I love your ties.” You’re hot and sweaty and if you weren’t fucked silly at the moment you’d be more bothered by the cotton prison D.O. insisted you kept on while he fucked you. He hasn’t done anything to your throat yet. “Always so neat and trim. God, when I see you in the hallways I just want to pull you over and fuck you until that pretty little tie’s crooked.”

 

You know what’s coming, but you don’t do anything to stop it. Why would you? You can’t exactly reply to that coherently when you’re yelling ‘Kyungsoo’ in ragged gasps.

 

“Crooked’s good, but I’ve already done that.” He flicks at your now off-center but otherwise sturdily fastened tie. “I think it’ll look so much better _tighter_.”

 

You came just a little bit quicker after that. D.O. still prefers using his hands, but occasionally he tells you not to strip all the way and you shiver. When… when did you come to enjoy this so much? Did you always have a penchant for this kind of thing and didn’t realize it? You blink when Chanyeol waves his hand in front of your face. Right. You're at school. It’s lunchtime and there's no reason to worry about D.O., even if he's eyeing your tie. You say that, but your salad is just a bit harder to swallow with D.O. looking at you so intently.

 

You don’t notice that Baekhyun’s staring at you from across the cafeteria, either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This would've been uploaded entirely on schedule had it not been for my laptop needing to be repaired. Anyhow, it shouldn't take months for the rest of the chapters to come out. Even if it does, I have every intention of finishing the entire fic so no fears of abandonment here.
> 
> Just as another little sidenote: if the tags didn’t give it away, there’ll be a few smut-based oversights made intentionally. Always practice proper consent and safety procedures, since kinks such as breathplay are pretty dangerous even if done correctly. Aside from that, there’ll be a few anatomical impossibilities- to be precise, we’re pretending the refractory period doesn’t exist. It’s all for a smoother, more active writing and reading process. Thanks for reading.


	4. Baekhyun - Get The Sensation

While you would usually hesitate to call anything close to being strangled for sexual pleasure ‘normal’, the fact of the matter is that it’s what’s happening. Your heart still aches now and again when Jongin pushes past you. It’s not as if he’s untouchable or anything. You’re paired up for a project in your public speaking class and over the course of working on your speeches you’ve gotten to know Jongin a little bit better.

 

For example, he doesn’t have the book everyone was supposed to have gotten two months ago. Now that’s egregious by itself, but considering that every single piece of homework that was given came from the book, you don’t understand how he still has stellar grades. Almost up to yours, in fact. It’s not as if he’s getting any help from Chanyeol, since the frustrated-looking boy in your row has slowly crept closer to you two over the weeks.

 

At first it was the farthest seat away, rightmost on the right section of the class. Then the middle of that section. Then at the left edge. Hopping seats each day, shoving each confused person aside into the next chair, something that the teacher notices and acknowledges with a few cheeky remarks, but otherwise does nothing about. He’s on the left side of the class, only about two or three seats away from you and Jongin now. Every time you talk to Chanyeol about his grades he gets sour and refuses to speak about it, but each scrunched up face you see him make after every test result is indicative enough.

 

It’s a lot weirder when he has the book and Jongin doesn’t, but hey. As long as Jongin’s happy, you’re happy. Or something. You don’t know what to feel about Jongin after the whole D.O. situation. Yes, you’re still deeply, deeply attracted to Jongin. But you sit with Chanyeol and D.O. during lunch. But on certain days Jongin comes over to work on the Powerpoint with you. But D.O.’s prints are all over your throat. But Jongin’s coming in today!

 

Ugh, it’s so annoying. Not to mention, you couldn’t chase your flatmate out this time so he’s free to be the little shit he is, eating chicken messily on the kitchen island you are both sitting at. Contrary to your ‘nerdy’ image, you _aren’t_ a stickler for cleanliness. Even if the meat flakes don’t look too good on the marble countertop, your flatmate knows well enough to clean up after himself. Besides, you are NOT going to clean when you have a turtleneck on.

 

“Are you sure you won’t leave if I buy you cheese?” You’ve already tried bargaining with his other favorite foods. Aside from chocolate. You’re not going to bankrupt yourself buying sweets just so it’s less embarrassing for you.

 

“I have nowhere to go. No one to play basketball with and fencing lessons are already over.” He pouts. “You aren’t letting me dance and I already have food. You’re out of bargaining chips this time.”

 

You sigh heavily and slump onto the countertop. “Can you promise me that you won’t do something embarrassing?”

 

“No.”

 

Just as you’re about to give your flatmate a nice smack, the door opens. You’ve gotten numb to Jongin entering as he pleases since he’s done that the last five times, but you cover your head anyway. You can already feel your flatmate winding up, can already see their horrid little grin in your mind. As if on cue, they speak again.

 

“Hey, your boyfriend’s here.” You groan, but your flatmate shakes your shoulder. “Hey, get up. It’s not polite to keep your boyfriend waiting by the door.”

 

You look up hesitantly and sure enough, Jongin’s already taken off his shoes and come in of his own volition. You give your flatmate a nasty glare. “Does it look like he’s waiting by the door!?” You sit up properly, rubbing your face wearily. “We are not. Dating.”

 

“Oh, you aren’t?”

 

...Huh? Usually your flatmate takes forever to drop that point. He’s acting genuinely surprised, as if you haven’t been telling him every single time Jongin came over that you’re not dating.

 

“Then I guess it’s free real estate.” To your horror you see him stand up, not bothering to do anything about the flakey mess around his lips. Jongin looks amused at all of this, but you’re not going to risk something really bad like- “You single, Kai? I am. How’s about we take this into my half of the flat and talk for awhile?”

 

You snarl and knock over your seat as you pounce, nearly knocking your flatmate clean aside. Forgetting how embarrassing it looks, you grab Jongin’s hand and tug him along to your room. For a second you just stand there, awkwardly holding hands, before you release it and mutter something about the project. Jongin looks so interested in you, so why isn’t he saying anything back? Uuuurgh.

 

“I don’t know how many times I have to tell him off… I know he does it on purpose, but I can’t just ignore it.” You rub the side of your neck before clapping. “Alright, let’s get started on our references, see what point of interest we want to zero on-”

 

You stare behind you, wild-eyed, when Jongin grabs you by the back of your collar. “Ah.” That’s all you can say. A meek, pathetic little monotone sound of disappointment of being caught so easily. Your neck’s bruised, purple stripes where D.O.’s fingers gripped a little too tightly. You recoil from the pain only to lean into that all-too-gentle touch when Jongin traces soft lines over the streaks of purple.

 

“...Should I be worried about this?”

 

You gulp. Right. It probably looks bad. No, you’re not being choked by your flatmate or a relative or anything disturbing like that. But you can’t exactly say ‘Well yeah D.O. did this’ either.  “I wanted this.”

 

“Oh.” His hand drops. The way he clicks his tongue is so casual, as if he hasn’t uncovered a potentially devastating secret. Is Jongin’s life really that wild that he deals with this regularly? Does he _know_ what D.O.’s into? Why isn’t he- “You should stop thinking so hard.” He flicks your forehead. “It’s not my place to decide what you can and can’t do if you actually want it.”

 

 _But it should be_ , your brain thinks unhelpfully. “...You found someone else, right?”

 

It’s Jongin’s turn to look slightly uncomfortable. “Huh? What are you talking about?”

 

“That girl in the hallway.” Your room feels like a coffin- no, an iron maiden, a suffocating and torturous prison lined with spikes. You made it that way, and now you have to deal with it.

 

“I don’t remember being with a girl in the hallway.” He’s a horrible liar even though he sounds so genuine. You _saw_ him! “Unless you mean…” He scoffs and shakes his head. “We should work on our speeches.”

 

“No. I want to know why you were with that girl.”

 

Jongin cuts across you cleanly while he grabs the stack of papers. “You’ve gotten really interested in me all of a sudden. Why now?”

 

You don’t answer.

 

**-—--✁- - - - - - - - - -**

 

School’s out, the day is coming to a close and you’re heading over to D.O.’s- at least, you would be, had you not literally run into Baekhyun on your way out. While it was a little bump rather than a full-fledged tumble, Baekhyun certainly takes it like the latter. He dramatically pulls you away from the eyes of everyone who witnessed the tiny run-in with the bravado of someone who’s going to beat your face in. Bravado doesn’t mean that Baekhyun’s any more intimidating, though. You’re still older than him.

 

“Mind explaining why I’m over here instead of, y’know, going home? It’s not nice to keep your hyung waiting.”

 

“Trust me, it’s important. You were asking around for the girl Kai was with, right? I managed to track her down for you.”

 

“Oh, really?” That’s awfully convenient, not to mention oddly specific. You haven’t said anything about that except around D.O. and- yeah, you’ve figured out what happened. Alright. While you aren’t supposed to use your administrative powers for your own personal good… who are you kidding, this is the one benefit being the student affairs president has given you! “I suppose you’ll be giving me her name?”

 

“That won’t be necessary.” He looks so proud of himself. Cute. Wait, what are you thinking about? “She’s agreed to meet up with you. I can take you to her, if you want.”

 

You bite your lower lip and palm your pocket, pulse quickening at the slightest thought of what D.O. would do to you for being late. “Go ahead.”

 

Following Baekhyun is a harder task than you realized, mainly because he has this weird half-jog going on. He doesn’t just participate in the conversation, he keeps going on his own tangents that, while entertaining, are oddly long. If you didn’t know any better you would think he’s hurrying from his cadence, raspy, almost exhilarated; but that’s ridiculous. Baekhyun isn’t the busiest guy from what D.O. and Chanyeol have said of him, so it’s not like you’re burdening him, like you were a parcel he was unfortunate enough to deliver. He was the one to offer to escort you! And he talks so nicely!

 

That being said, you don’t exactly know where you’re going. What began as an obvious path to the front of the school turned into a completely different path in a part of town you don’t really know well. You were distracted by Baekhyun’s funny little story about biting EXO members’ butts. Now that you’re saying it back to yourself, maybe it’s stranger and more homoerotic than funny. Is that bros being bros, or? Surely not all of EXO is gay… right? You managed to get lucky with two of them and that’s more than you expected in your books.

 

“We’re here.”

 

“Oh.” You kind of imagined Baekhyun having his own house like everyone else, but it turns out that he lives in a boarding house. And one you applied for before you stumbled upon your flatmate, to boot. You remember being excited that you’d have to share the room with _only_ three other people when you scoped this place out. Right, this is the reason why you don’t strangle your flatmate every time he embarrasses you in front of Jongin.

 

“Well, don’t just stand there.” Baekhyun cheerily leads you inside, past a ragtag group that, for some reason, is in the middle of an intense game of UNO. You and Baekhyun go past the table, first starting from behind a butch blond woman with only one card left, a near-indefensible +4. You start betting on her as soon as you see the next person’s hand. He’s charming and cute in the reclusive kind of way (Is that your style? Hopefully not.) but his four non-special cards spell a loss for him. You can’t see the hands of everyone else on the other side of the table; unfortunate, given their interesting reactions.

 

An effeminate man looks in annoyance at what must be a horrible hand, shoulder-length hair bouncing when he plants the cards on the table in frustration. Disinterested, the buzzcut-haired guy next to him plays with the edges of his cards, eyes nearly blank. Somehow you get the vibe he could win the game if he actually tried. The final one, still dressed in a barista outfit, looks thoughtfully over her cards as she adjusts her rather long blond hair. The girl you’re looking for had brown hair though. Was it dyed? Doesn’t seem so, since Baekhyun’s leading you up the stairs.

 

You eventually reach the room in question, hit with the strong scent of cologne as you enter, oddly masculine- _click_. While you were getting your bearings Baekhyun sped past you and locked the door behind him. Yeah, you’re not an idiot, so you give Baekhyun an exasperated sigh. “I’m going to be late because of this? What do you think you’re doing-”

 

“Shut up.”

 

“That’s not a nice thing to say to your hyung.”

 

“I don’t think of someone that highly when they had to get rescued just because they didn’t want to deal with the walk of shame.” His words bite into you, cold, harsh, stopping you from speaking as effectively as D.O.’s hands. “Now I’m going to tell you how this will go down. You’re going to crawl onto my lap and you’re going to let me spank you.”

 

Jaw locked tight, you shake your head furiously and turn to leave. How dare someone like him- impertinent, absolutely impertinent for someone younger than you. Sure, both Jongin and D.O. are younger, but D.O.’s straight up polite and Jongin’s endearing past his clumsy handling of your relationship. Baekhyun has absolutely no precedent to demand something so demeaning! You unlock the door with ease, bristling with rage at the lazy attempt to keep you inside.

 

“Or you could leave,” You pause halfway through the door, ready to snap that you’re already doing that when Baekhyun continues. “And I tell everyone that you settled for fucking the vice president after Kai dumped you.”

 

“That’s not true!” To even imply that someone as great as Junmyeon would do something so low as take advantage of you like that riles you up so badly. You stomp back over to the boy (who’s now seated on the bed), mumbling to yourself that you _shouldn’t_ punch someone out in any situation. Not even for a blatant lie.

 

“I don’t know about that. If half the school thinks that way I’m pretty sure whether it’s true or not doesn’t actually matter.”

 

While he isn’t usually intimidating (and he still isn’t, really, not physically) the weight of the matter rests above your head, teetering dangerously like an anvil on a rope that’s about to snap. You’ve gone too far for your reputation to be tarnished like this. Not to mention the fact that you don’t want to implicate Junmyeon into this ridiculous lie either. Your hand rests on the doorknob, fingers dancing nervously around the unfeeling metal.

 

You’re not that popular. You really aren’t. Sure, you’re basically everyone’s acquaintance just by virtue of dealing with the student body as a whole, but you have a distinct lack of friends outside of the committee. General student populace vs the committee wouldn’t stack up well in your favor, so you have no way of quashing the rumors before they gain too much traction. You grit your teeth and close the door, almost shuddering when you lock the door of your own free will.

 

You breathe sharply through your nose, already imagining what Baekhyun wants from you. Skin. Your hand shoots to your neck in momentary panic, but a cursory inspection reminds you that D.O. hasn’t bruised you in a while. After you talked to him about the Jongin incident (sans mentioning Jongin, of course) he made sure to be a little more gentle. You’re not sure if Baekhyun wants you shirtless, but since you’re going to be taking… your pants off… oh god, the embarrassment is killing you already. Since you’re going to be undressing you might as well go all the way!

 

“That’s what I didn’t understand about you. What was so special that had Kai and Suh-” He coughs violently. “Why did Kai pick you of all people?”

 

You balk when you pop the first button of your shirt, trying and failing to think of a reason despite not wanting to give Baekhyun the time of day. You’ve given it a lot of thought, but you don’t really know why Kai chose you. Now that your relationship with him is strained your main suspicion was that it was entirely random. As you undo the last button you hiss, partially because of the cold air against your bare stomach and partially because Baekhyun whistled at you.

 

Next are the pants. Some part of your brain, annoyingly enough, reminds you over and over again that you’re basically stripping in front of Baekhyun in his own bedroom. While you’re trying to silence that part, you unbutton the top and finally unzip- the sound deafening in this near-silent room. Your pants fall in a messy pool around your legs and you kick them away.

 

“It’s because,” Baekhyun starts and you rub the back of your neck, pretending not to listen even though you really want to know what made someone like Jongin _magnetized_ to you. “You’re a slut.” Any protest you have is immediately silenced when Baekhyun leaps from his perch. His fingers ghost over your sides before you can knock his hands away. Despite his brazenness, he’s blushing. He didn’t… expect you to do this. Goddamnit, now your cheeks are burning. “I didn’t ask you to strip, but you did it anyway. Wow.”

 

You screw your eyes shut as his hand moves to your butt. He squeezes, you whimper. You can’t even talk back to that. What are you supposed to say? ‘Oh, I thought you were a pervert so I just happened to undress?’ That’s… exactly how it happened, but it sounds so ridiculous. He hums in approval as he kneads your globes, chuckling once he notices the steadily growing bulge in your boxers. He shoves your underwear down and off of you and you gasp lightly as your member is freed into the cool air.

 

“Good little slut.” You groan, looking blearily at the ceiling. Why does your body enjoy these degrading words so much? “I should’ve found you way before Kai did. But hey, I don’t mind sloppy seconds.” He slaps the cheek he was just massaging, causing you to shriek girlishly. All your confidence gone, all you can think is ‘ _Sloppy thirds_ ’.

 

Baekhyun sits back down and pats his lap meaningfully. You shuffle over, eyes glued to your feet, before lumbering onto his legs. If you weren’t so embarrassed maybe you’d laugh at Baekhyun overestimating your weight, but with some effort he has you balanced properly. It comes without warning. One moment you’re staring at the floorboards with no real direction and the next you’re reaching for your stinging cheek. Baekhyun takes the opportunity to wrench the arm you used tightly against your back. You nearly groan, but you don’t want to sound so needy, so erotically charged- “Ugh!”

 

Your other cheek stings with Baekhyun’s handprint. You’re pretty sure there’s a red outline perfectly- “Shiiiiit!” The rarely uttered curse word slips through your tightly clenched teeth. Why’s he going so hard!? You look back to tell Baekhyun to slow down when- “Fuck me!”

 

“That’s exactly what I’m going to do.” His fingers brush over your pucker. “When you apologize.”

 

You hate how shaky your voice sounds. “For what?”

 

“You’ll figure it out.”

 

And then the blows start.

 

By the time Baekhyun stops, cold tears are trickling down your warm, flushed face. Your entire body aches, and  shudders randomly. You can’t really feel anything past your stomach, which convulses with each pang of pain that slips through the shroud of numbness. Your vocal cords are fried, but you croak out something nonetheless. “I’m sorry for not wanting you first.”

 

“Good,” Baekhyun purrs. “That wasn’t so hard, was it? Now I promised that I’d fuck you, but...” He tugs at your now-limp but undeniably damp cock. “You only needed my hand, huh? When you get home, put some ice on it. I expect you to be here tomorrow. Same time.”

 

“I c-can’t do tomorrow, Hyunnie.” You wince when the nickname slips, expecting another strike on your already incredibly sore spot, but it never comes.

 

“Keep calling me Hyunnie. I like it. Although…” He rolls you onto the bed before getting up and stretching. “If you don’t show up tomorrow, I’ll have to punish you.”

 

What have you gotten yourself into?

 

**-—-—✁ - - - - - - - - -**

 

Two days later and you think you have a hang on everything. Sure, your neck still hurts from the punishment D.O. gave you yesterday, but he was only slightly rougher than usual. And besides, you aren’t going to be using that part of yourself. Hopefully. Despite how bad it seemed at the time, Baekhyun’s attack on your ass proved to be less of a major problem and more of an annoyance once you got ice on it like he suggested. If he uses his hand again, you should be fine. Of course, there is… the part where he sticks his dick into you, but again. Should. Be. Fine.

 

Your hand is on your tie the entire time you walk through Baekhyun’s boarding house, hiding behind your self-defense mechanism as if that makes you invisible to Baekhyun’s dormmates. When the effeminate man offers to take you out for drinks, you squeak out that you’re busy enough as it is and dash up the stairs. During your escape you realize it was probably a joke, but the laughter burning in your ears reminds you of your real purpose.

 

Forgetting your manners for a bit, you slip into Baekhyun’s room near silently. In fact, Baekhyun hasn’t noticed you yet. At his desk, heavy earmuffs over his ears, dressed only in boxers, eyes glued to some MOBA game your roommate tried to drag you into at one point- he’s completely clueless. You gulp, hand still grasping the doorknob behind you. You could leave. Say that you came down with a cold or something. You were so certain that you’d have absolutely no choice in the matter that you forgot that you could hide. If worst came to worst with the rumors, you had D.O. and possibly Jongin on your side. Now, to leave.

 

“Oh, you came early this time.” You want to cry, but your current situation’s non-ideal already. “Is that to make up for yesterday? Sorry, but it isn’t enough. What do bad boys get?”

 

You cringe at the cliched question. You cringe harder when you respond meekly. “Spankings.”

 

“Now you got it!”

 

Let’s get it over with. There goes your shirt and pants (chosen specifically to survive the rough and careless journey to the floor without having to be washed later), then your underwear. Baekhyun stands up and does the same, showing off his… huh. Baekhyun is small. Relatively. You have to remind yourself that Jongin and D.O. were lucky enough to be as big as they are and that neither you nor Baekhyun should be embarrassed about it. He seems just a tiny bit smaller than you.

 

“You’re… really staring hard, huh?” You look up at Baekhyun’s face, which happens to be strangely bashful. Is he seriously self-conscious about this? You’re literally about to get spanked and presumably fucked, so seeing Baekhyun embarrassed about something makes you mouth “cute” to yourself. “O-Okay, hands against the wall.”

 

You raise an eyebrow. “Not over your lap?”

 

Baekhyun regains his lost bravado as his cock starts to swell. “We’re going to do something different today, slut.”

 

What, like… spanking against the wall? It takes most of your willpower not to let the utter confusion show on your face and the rest of it to put your hands on the nearest wall. Newly painted. Cold. You look over your shoulder for further instruction, only to find Baekhyun dragging a large case from underneath his bed. Alright, that doesn’t bode well. You want to look at the wall again, but your eyes are transfixed on the latent threat. The case pops open and your heart leaps into your throat. A paddle. One big enough to cover all of your ass in a single strike.

 

Baekhyun stands with the massive tool in hand. You consider running. He stalks closer to you, the paddle thudding heavily against his palm. Your legs feel like gelatin. Can’t run. His hand goes cleanly down  your back. Your throat’s too dry. Can’t plead. Now his hand’s on your butt. He’s going to do it. The mere thought of the pain has your knees shaking uncontrollably.

 

“Relax. I’m going to go easy on you.” You can barely hear him over the blood rushing through your ears. Just short of living without ever having Jongin’s attention again, this is the second worst fear of yours. He’s saying something else, but with the fear crackling down your spine you’re in no position to listen. Your teary eyes open when your chin is grabbed and your head turned to the side; Baekhyun doesn’t have a hint of maliciousness in him anymore. “I talked to Chen about using this with you. I don’t usually pay attention to that kind of stuff, but you enjoyed it so much last time that I… thought we’d both enjoy this.”

 

“A-Are you calling off the punishment?”

 

He wipes off an errant tear dribbling down your face. “I was planning on doing ten strikes with the paddle, but bad boys like you still need to be punished. Thirty strikes with the hand should do it.”

 

“Th-Thirty!?” Suddenly the paddle doesn’t seem so bad anymore. “I don’t know if I can do that, Hyunnie.” The nickname slips out again. You even said it in the same tone! If you weren’t so busy convincing yourself that it was a self defense mechanism, you’d think you were enjoying this wholeheartedly.

 

“Choose. Paddle or my hand.”

 

“Hyunieeeeee…”

 

Baekhyun growls low in his throat. “Stop tempting me. Choose or Hyunie will make the decision himself.”

 

You don’t think at all. You go with pure instinct. “Paddle me.”

 

The first blow isn’t the mountain of pain you expected, but it still smarts. Leather, with absolutely no give. Either your pain tolerance has gone up or… some of it was converted directly into what made your cock jump. The impact forced you a bit forward, so you shuffle back into place. That was a mistake and a half, seeing as you back up right into the second hit. “Mmmmrpgh!”

 

“Are you trying to keep quiet? I like it better when you sing for me.” Three. The pain is tolerable. Four. Oh god, why did he have to hit so fast after the last one? Five. Your face is wet again. “What’s this, what’s this, what’s this?”

 

You stiffen in more ways than one when you feel leather running across your member. Pre? Already? But you’ve just begun. You’re only halfway through the punishment. If it’s any consolation, a quick glance shows that Baekhyun’s getting off on this too even if he isn’t dribbling yet. When he twists the paddle and the angle changes, your breath hitches. Before you’re even finished, the paddle twists again, rough leather dragging across your head in just the right spot-!

 

“I love it when you sing.” Baekhyun’s breath tickles the back of your ear, warm and so very husky. “If I had less self control I’d be inside of you right now. You’d like that, right?”

 

Not only do you want something, _anything_ inside of you to stop the needy burn, the practical side of yourself knows that if you play this right you could get out of the rest of the punishment. You add a lighter lilt to your voice, make it just a bit more desperate. “Please.”

 

“Please what?”

 

“Please, Hyunnie.”

 

He chuckles lightly, the close proximity to your ears making you weak in the knees again. “No, no. I didn’t mean that.” You’re startled when you hear the paddle drop loudly to the floor. “What I meant was, what do you want me to do?” He moves behind you, firmly sandwiching himself between your two reddened cheeks. “This?” He teases you, rocks his hips back and forth where you can feel him but can’t get any real pleasure from it. “Or this?” In sharp contrast to his teasing, he grabs and strokes you, holding you in place with a savage grip on your hip.

 

“B-Both, please, Hyunnie, please just let me- agh!” You’ve switched from having your palms on the wall to bracing yourself on your arms. Barely capable of supporting your upper half, it’s really Baekhyun who’s making sure your violently shaking knees don’t give out entirely. “Please let me come!”

 

As soon as you say that, his hand stops. He moves away. You were already crying but now you want to cry for an entirely different reason. “No. Not yet, at least.”

 

With a hiccup you slide down the wall, sobbing that you can’t take it anymore. At this point you don’t care if you’re labeled a slut or easy or whatever. You want Baekhyun to pick you back up and fuck you against the wall. Or have him toss you onto the bed so he can make the mattress squeak hard enough that everyone else in the building hears. Hell, he doesn’t even have to do that. You’d moan so loudly everyone would stare at you as you limp out. You were so, so ashamed about the walk of shame that you called Junmyeon the last time it happened. The thought still makes your body flush with shame, but at this moment you don’t _care_.

 

You stumble over to Baekhyun’s feet, holding on like a petulant child. You don’t have puppy eyes or a begging face (you’re usually in the position of power and have been until you’ve messed with EXO), but the face you make has Baekhyun biting his lip. You lift yourself up some, reach for Baekhyun’s throbbing member. Just as you think you have it, he steps away again. Your heart breaks again. “Whhhy?”

 

“Looks like you haven’t learned your lesson yet. You’re only halfway through your original punishment. Consider this additional for trying to tempt me.”

 

You practically screech and dive for the discarded paddle, nearly jabbing Baekhyun in the side in your haste to get it to him. You stumble onto your feet and back to the wall despite the tremors wracking your body. Only five more hits and you’ll get off. Although you’re not in the best state to give a reassuring look, you do so anyway. You want this part to be over as soon as possible. You’ll shoulder the pain, no matter what.

 

Baekhyun is as impatient as you are since the remaining five blows come as a flurry, one that has your screeching your throat raw and on the verge of collapse yet again. You’re left shivering against the cold wall while Baekhyun puts the paddle back into the case, but soon enough you’re wrapped in the heavenly warmth that is his embrace. He carries you gently over to the bed and your first instinct is to get onto all fours, but he swats your head when you try.

 

“You’ll hurt yourself if we go that fast.” Baekhyun guides you until you’re lying flat on your stomach before kneading deep into your sorest areas. Your annoyed mutters turn into hums of appreciation, mixed in with a few gasps when Baekhyun makes good on his previous storytelling. He bites your butt. Strangely enough, it’s a lot sexier than you first gave it credit for.

 

The massage doesn’t last very long afterward (and thank god for that, it’s uncomfortable having your erection pressed against your stomach) and you’re guided into the all fours position you tried just before. There’s no fuss here, really. You’re both too turned on by the paddling for fingering to have any effect. The moment you’re stretched out, Baekhyun buries half of himself in one solid thrust. Delirious with the pain-pleasure that you’ve been subjected to, your back arches automatically. You moan without a thought.

 

One or two more thrusts in- you can’t really tell at this point- and he’s all the way inside of you. Baekhyun adjusts himself, tests out the waters, at least until he makes a lucky jab at your prostate. It doesn’t matter how much the paddling has taken out of you, as soon as your prostate’s hit liquid pleasure pools from that one spot. Your body stiffens and before the effects can fully register, you hear (and feel) a meaty smack from your ass. You squeeze down on Baekhyun doubly hard as you try to adjust to it, but Baekhyun never gives you the chance.

 

Thrust, smack. “Ugh!” Thrust, smack. With incredible coordination (or at least what your hazy mind interprets to be incredible), he times everything so that you’re dealing with two different feelings at the exact same time. You squirm, but you never know whether it’s because you want to get away from the pain or because you want the pleasure to continue. You’re a mess of nerves and ill-timed movements, always stuck between moving forward and going back and Baekhyun takes full advantage of it.

 

You don’t have the voice nor the anticipation to warn Baekhyun. You just groan and faceplant as you once again ruin the sheets beneath you. Baekhyun sneaks in one last hit before he pulls out, streams of seed landing on your newly reddened butt.

 

“You’re staying over tonight.”

 

At those words, you roll over and fall deep asleep.

 

You’re knocked out too quickly to see Baekhyun’s look of regret and the frustrated way he ruffles his hair. You’re too far gone to feel him lay beside you and stroke your cheek. But most of all, you don’t hear the soft words he whispers into your ear. “I was bluffing the entire time,” he sighs. “Why do you have to go this far for your reputation? Why are you so fucking beautiful?”

 

The next day consists mainly of you icing your butt and trying to explain to D.O. why you have to keep him waiting two days in a row, but that isn’t as important as what happens when you’re not around. Since D.O. doesn’t have a sexual partner he ends up joining the rest of the EXO crew for dinner. Which, of course, means that most of the members cause chaos while trying to order at the restaurant while the members not hungry enough to yell over eachother wait at the table; Sehun, Xiumin and Suho.

 

Sehun flicks through his phone as per the usual, wearing sunglasses indoors. During the night. It’s a toss-up whether or not Kai will actually order for him, but it’s not as if he dislikes the company of the two eldest hyungs. They just talk about stuff he’s not interested in.

 

“Oh, remember when Baekhyun asked Chen about that paddle he bought?” Xiumin suddenly starts. Sehun knows, of course- everyone teased him about it. Mildly interesting. Not worth putting down his phone, though. “I think he got to test it out. He’s been so happy.”

 

“Well, it’s good he found someone.” Suho looks glumly down at the table as he leans back into his seat. “Some of us haven’t been so lucky.” He anticipates what Sehun’s about to quip, stealing the moment away from the maknae. “Yes, that includes me. But I think D.O. has it harder.”

 

“Eh? Doesn’t he have that new boytoy of his he accidentally told Kai about?”

 

“That’s the thing. I think Baekhyun may have stolen him.”

 

Now it's getting interesting. Sehun lowers the volume on the music he’s been listening to the entire night. His eyes gloss over stories he’s already watched- Kai doing pull-ups at the gym, Lay complaining about how chilly the airport is, Xiumin shirtless while he talks about something Sehun refused to listen to in favor of gawking at his abs. Any cover to seem distracted. Maybe he's a little bit too distracted staring at Xiumin's story, but hey. He can still hear his hyungs talking.

 

“Who do you think it is?”

 

Suho shrugs. “If I had a clue, I would’ve found out who it is. Have you seen Baekhyun hanging out with someone lately?”

 

Xiumin shakes his head, but Sehun smirks to himself. Baekhyun blew Sehun off before, ‘conveniently’ running into a person and making off with them as he watched from the other side of the street. The student affairs president? Damn Baekhyun. Damn D.O., too, if they’ve both been involved with the guy. After the spectacular fall from grace thanks to Kai, Sehun wanted to be the one to break that prissy bitch further. He wanted to be the only one the pres looked at. Well, no matter. He’ll make pres forget about everything else.

 

He sneers as he puts his phone down on the table. Time to buy a collar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I moved. Yeah. Nothing to say other than I'm expediting the next chapter so the next unforeseen obstacle won't prevent me from writing for too long.


	5. Sehun - Two For Me, None For You

Stressed out, thy name is… well, your own. It turns out that your body doesn’t take too kindly to having both ends of it ravaged on alternating days. Whenever it’s too much you tell D.O. and Baekhyun, of course, they’re reasonable enough that they could wait a day or two while you rest. But after that, it’s right back to the rough play you’ve associated yourself with.

 

What were you doing before them? 1. Studying more. You now find it more enjoyable pretending like you didn’t study at all so Baekhyun can punish you harder. 2. Lying on your bed, staring at the ceiling. You still do that now, except you fall asleep staring at the soft light from your digital clock, your throat aching dully along the remnants of D.O.’s fingerprints. 3. Ironing your clothes. You find yourself wanting to be Jongin’s househusband more than doing any actual housekeeping. Night time is often your time, listening to the pitter-patter of rain on your window or simply sinking into the plush comfort of your bed. But sometimes your mind acts up, speaks loudly, telling you over and over that you’re fucked up.

 

You find going to sleep a lot more difficult on those nights. To save some sanity you draw the line and take a break from it all. A full one. Until further notice. Your brief worries of Baekhyun’s deliberate tarnishing of your reputation disappear when, after a few days, nothing changes. In fact, he doesn’t say a word when you start clinging closer to Jongin, whose near-indifference calms you down. Baekhyun glares sometimes. That’s all.

 

Despite your break you find yourself ruminating on your dignity or lack thereof when it comes to EXO. Waking up after that is a challenge. Later you find yourself slipping in class, doodling roses in the corner of your notebook or looking at your phone underneath the table or clinging onto Jongin’s arm when he lets you. Unfortunately, it’s only a matter of time before someone notices and things go royally wrong.

 

No, it’s not Chanyeol, even though he does tend to throw fits whenever he walks into class and your cheek is on Jongin’s shoulder. It’s not even a member of the general student populace. The girls seated behind you chittered like vacuous harpies the first few times it happened, but as with anything else when nothing escalated they lost interest. The Jongin of old would’ve given them a show and then some… You digress. No, the worst possible person to find out is Junmyeon.

 

You don’t suspect a thing. When Junmyeon invites you to study over at his place (expending one of your mercy days away from Baekhyun and D.O. for no real reason, but Junmyeon’s your best friend so whatever) you’re all too chipper to have him help you with your math. Prim and proper from the way he tutors you to the gleaming nature of his house which you feel like you’re sullying just by intruding in on it. The very floor you’re seated on has been polished to a shine. It’s a pretty sharp contrast to the attitude  you and your flatmate have taken to housekeeping, which is ‘if it starts to get sticky, we’ll mop it’.

 

Junmyeon’s always so put together that you can’t help but envy him. He’s like the older brother everyone wants. He’s mature, giving realistic solutions to problems that stumped you before. He’s gorgeous but rarely flaunts it, saying that he has someone in mind when people try flirting with him. Whoever he’s going for must be incredibly lucky. He’s kind, going out of his way to help you even with highly confidential and intimate situations. He’s easy to tease, blushing at the slightest dry jabs you give him. He’s the best friend you could ever ask for.

 

You’ve been staring at him for way too long, but you didn’t notice purely because he didn't say anything back to you. His smile is so soft. Why doesn’t he have a girlfriend already? Who’s the idiot who isn’t instantly in love with that pure face- Studying! You’re supposed to be studying. You smother a cough with your hand and look back down at your calculus questions. They look like squiggles at the best of times, but they’re barely readable at this point.

 

You force a sigh and weigh the pros and cons of suggesting a ‘break’ where you both eat noodles and don’t study for the rest of the day. Before you can voice your plan, however, you notice that Junmyeon’s gentle smile has warped into a small frown. Without thinking you reach out and put your hand over his. He moves his away- you may share a lot more skinship than your typical friendship (and considering you’re different ages your closeness is already unusual) but that must be too much. You should’ve known. “Sorry about that.”

 

“You can touch me, I don’t mind. It’s just…” His face turns grim. “You’ve been touching Jongin too, haven’t you?”

 

The blissful air that existed just a few seconds ago is replaced by a stifling, uncomfortable miasma. You know better than anyone else that for all his patience and joking ‘anger’, there exists a genuine and terrifyingly deep pit of emotion within. As far as you know, you’re the only one who’s stared into the gaping maw of that abyss. Question is, why is it opening up now? Is he really that averse to the idea of you and Jongin? But why?

 

By all means you know the risk. You’re still paying for messing with EXO in the first place. You never considered sleeping with or even being with Baekhyun and D.O. in any capacity, but it’d be a lie to say you regret the times you had with them. Before them, the hardest kink you were into was dirty talk. Now you can’t even touch yourself without thinking of any one of the three guys you’ve slept with. You’ve even taken a break to deal with everything. While that’s a solid defense in your mind, you doubt it’d appease Junmyeon. You just need… a little white lie. For Junmyeon’s sake.

 

“We’re friends. Of course I’d be hanging around him.” You give Junmyeon a light punch on the shoulder but recoil when he bristles. No, this isn’t the time to be shying away just because you’re a little scared. Perhaps you’re giving yourself too much of a confidence boost because as soon as you say the next thing, you regret it. “Are you jealous?”

 

“That’s not the point.”

 

“Then that means you _are_ -”

 

“I said that’s _not the point_.” He snaps. You fall silent.

 

You’re not the best with confrontations. Of course you can handle yourself, it’s just... You don’t know how to deal with Junmyeon specifically. The fear settles over you like a blanket, no, a wall- one so thick you can’t bear to look anywhere near the anger-radiating man near you. But if Jongin taught you anything, it’s persistence works. You’re not going to be as blunt or careless as Jongin was, but still. If you keep at it through gradual exposure Junmyeon will accept the two of you. Still, the frightened part of yourself wants nothing more than to appease Junmyeon. Balancing emotions is hard.

 

“I’m just worried about you, okay?” He sighs.

 

Seeing your normally cheerful friend crestfallen tugs at your newfound drive to help him. That moment of weakness is all you need to slip in through the cracks. You scoot next to him and hug him while his guard is down. Sturdy, but soft at the same time. That’s what he is to you, now it’s time for you to be that for him.

 

“If it makes you feel any better, I promise I won’t be all over him. All I want _you_ to remember is that I have a project with him so I can’t have a restraining order placed on him. Deal?”

 

“...Alright. Deal. Just don’t let me catch you doing anything like going out on a date with him.”

 

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

 

Then, of course, the next day, this happens.

 

“Go out with me. Right now.”

 

How many times have you been through this? Broad chest against yours. A clear, calm heartbeat against your rapid and chaotic one. Deep breaths forcing you to breathe in time with the man trapping you by the locker. From a very early age you learnt how to stare people who intimidate you in the eye; here, your gaze falters at his half-lidded, playful eyes. His bravado is intoxicating, burrowing into your wants and desires, burning through past grievances as if they were nothing. His dark, mussed hair tickles your forehead as he leans closer, lips oh so eager to close the tiny gap between them and yours but not moving at all.

 

It’s impossible to count how many times Jongin cornered you like this. The raven haired beauty in front of you, however, is Sehun. Jongin was like an inferno of warmth and passion, tanned and brilliant like the sun. Sehun is like crystallized silver; glowing in cold radiance that dazzles you, almost pushes you away until you notice the tenderness in his eyes.

 

Ten too-long seconds tick by before you lick your lips and spout one of the stock responses you used on Jongin. “I have a class right now.”

 

Sehun shifts and you swear if he says ‘skip it’ you’re going to shove him off of you and forget this ever happened- “After?”

 

Your mouth dries instantly. You didn’t expect a reasonable and polite request. Blindsided, you say the first thing that comes to mind. “O-Okay.” Even the way he takes your acceptance melts your heart, his stiff and chilly exterior cracking apart as he breathes out with pure relief. There’s no big fanfare, no sense of entitlement, no need for a year-long chase that ends with bitter regrets and confusion.

 

You pass by the same crowd of vaguely interested but mostly tired and overly caffeinated students. There’s a constant buzz around, a unified mutter, but only one student moves to intercept you. Yeah, you’re not really in the mood to deal with anyone right off the bat, even if you recognize the innocent committee member chasing you down. You’re seconds away from lunging at your class’ door when a five foot blur speeds directly into your path. Welp, it was worth a try.

 

“Did that just happen?” The meek-looking but overtly vocal girl in front of you is Seungwan. She’s in charge of foreign affairs within the committee, dealing with foreign exchange students, particularly the ones who didn’t speak Korean. You get along swimmingly- when she doesn’t pry into your love life.

 

“It’s nothing to get concerned over.” You try not to stare at the shiny doorknob just past Seungwan’s chocolate brown hair. Just focus on her eyes. Her incredibly suspicious, judgy eyes. It’s uncomfortably hot all of a sudden. “My personal life doesn’t concern you.”

 

“It does when you were all over Jongin a few days ago.”

 

Blood rushes to your cheeks. “W-Well, he and I haven’t been clear on our communication lately. If he didn’t want S-Sehun doing this to me then he would’ve cleared everything up.”

 

“ _I’m sure you mean that._ ” The sudden English and a light bump on the shoulder from Seungwan’s fist has you flinching.

 

“ _Hey, I can speak English too._ ” You stutter through your thick accent. “And it’s not good for you to speak to your sunbae like that.”

 

“But you speak casually with everyone else in the committee. Especially Junmyeon. I mean, you’re practically his boyfriend.”

 

“He doesn’t count!”

 

**\- —-— -✁ -  - - -  - - - -  -**

 

When you first saw Sehun, you didn’t know what to think of him. Following him into a quirky hole-in-the-wall establishment with the scent of fresh tea imprinted into every cinnamon brown tile, you still don’t know what to think.

 

He’s not shy. You know that as much when he pulls up your seat, offers to order for you, even tosses a cheeky finger heart from the line when he spots you looking. You’ve been embarrassed time and time again, from Jongin’s incessant, almost cringeworthy tactics (that _worked on you_ ) to your… open approach to sex life and unusual kinks. This is the first time that you find yourself blushing out of appreciation rather than embarrassment. Nobody’s...  been gently interested in you like this before. Not a single lewd remark yet.

 

Your glass is delivered to you with great care, quiet clacks of the swirling ice cubes rising from your peach tea. Sehun’s pride radiates off of him as he takes his seat, carelessly dropping his own plastic cup onto the table. Bubble tea. Had you known that it was just tea with tapioca balls before you ordered you would’ve tried it, but you’re just peachy with your choice.

 

The biggest problem now is that you have no idea what to do. Date? What’s that? You’re not familiar. “So…” You trail off, Sehun’s now piqued interest concentrating his focus into a laser death gaze. Your throat dries in a second; you snatch your glass far too quickly. Just as you’re about to drench yourself in a fruity pink cascade, Sehun steadies your hand with his own. The ice makes even less of a clack this time given the much slower, more deliberate path between the glass and the table.

 

“So.” Sehun starts and ends, mirroring your uncertainty, almost teasing with his self-assured toss of the head- or maybe he’s just naturally confident and you’re being ridiculous. He takes your cold-numbed fingers off one by one, deliberately gauging your reaction, which at this point is nothing more than stunned silence. When all of your digits are off, he raises your hand up to his face. “Can I? Kiss it, I mean.”

 

“You’re so warm.” You blurt out, face instantly blossoming with heat after the sudden statement of fact. “I-I mean… yes.”

 

Sehun makes absolutely sure you’re watching before doing anything else. Your averted eyes go in vain because he waits there, holds exactly still until you dare to glance back at him. When his soft pink lips brush over your knuckles you’re just about ready to faint or- what was that term? Swooning? Perhaps overly dramatic, but when Sehun’s lips feel like wispy clouds of euphoria (and they haven’t touched your lips yet) you think it’s a reasonable enough reaction.

 

Throughout all of this, though, one question still burns at the back of your mind. Why now? After wading through the sea of ambiguous signals from Jongin, a sex-only relationship with D.O. and a dubious period with Baekhyun, Sehun is the first to carve a clean path straight toward you. A proper date in a genuinely nice place with the most risqué action being a gentlemanly kiss on the hand- you’ve been head over heels before, but as vulnerable as you are it feels like the first time all over again.

 

“I think I’m getting ahead of myself, sorry.” Sehun says with the enthusiasm of the average desk jockey as his hand disappears under the table. You’re… actually thankful for that even with the clear longing both of you possess. You used to think you had self-control before one meagre misstep messed up your entire self-view. The fact that Sehun’s smart enough not to escalate these things further makes you feel small, but in a good way. Having someone care for you has long since been a dream of yours, but the inner craving you have was stemmed by Junmyeon for the longest while. You don’t need really close platonic care, you need romantic, especially now.

 

Peach washes a clear path down your throat as you both take a moment to clear down a little. The soft conversation of the elderly managers nearby fill in the space until you manage to squeak:“You’re so nice to me.”

 

“Why wouldn’t I be? Did someone hurt you before?” Despite Sehun’s darkening expression his eyes betray a certain amount of knowledge. And why wouldn’t he? He knows about you and Jongin. It’s a good thing he has absolutely no idea about any of your other exploits. That would be horrible!

 

“I wouldn’t go so far as to say _hurt_. Confused, maybe. Slightly annoyed, definitely.” You cross your arms and prepare yourself to launch into rant mode, only to realize that you’re not with your flatmate. You straighten up immediately. “But that’s not the point, yes? We’re here to do dating stuff. Stuff that people on a date do. Those things.”

 

“You… really haven’t been on a date before, have you?” Sehun’s laughter doesn’t sound like it came from him at all. It’s harsh, almost dork-like. No, it’s definitely the kind of wheezy, high-pitched laugh that you commonly associate with your tryhard of a flatmate. Try as you might to hate it, it’s so wrongly appropriate for someone as handsome as Sehun.

 

“It’s obvious, isn’t it?”

 

“I mean it is.” Upon your shoulder slump he reaches across the table to pat you. “But it’s cute. Don’t worry. The worst thing you can be on a date is boring and you’re not as boring as you look.”

 

“Thanks- Hey!”

 

And his adorable laughter sprouts up again. “See what I mean?”

 

You enjoyed this date.

 

And you enjoy the one afterward. And then the one after that. And the one after that. Until suddenly Sehun’s holding your hand in public. Waiting for you outside of every class, ignoring Chanyeol and Jongin on his path toward you. Their reactions are interesting, to say the least.

 

Chanyeol’s willing to put aside his pride both in his want for you and your knowledge. He third wheels occasionally, fighting Sehun for your attention while you’re supposedly tutoring him. Jongin’s the same, more or less, except the person’s arm you cling onto nowadays is Sehun’s. Sometimes you feel like Jongin’s the tiniest bit envious, but you’re just imagining things. Probably.

 

While they’re certainly interesting, they’re not the most interesting- or confrontational- by far. Baekhyun was content to glare when it was one-sided interest between you and Jongin. Seeing you being affectionate with Sehun must have affected him a lot more than you thought it would. After  the first two days without incident you think you’re fine.

 

Then, the third day, right as you’re about to go home, Baekhyun once again corners you just outside of the doors. This time, however, Sehun’s by your side. Even if you were to somehow magically forget about the last time you followed Baekhyun to a suspicious place, Sehun wouldn’t let you go a step without his approval. Baekhyun’s a spitball of fire and energy and given how jittery he is you’re sure he would’ve grabbed you if your boyfriend wasn’t right behind you.

 

“We had an agreement.” Baekhyun hisses, not willing to touch you but more than willing to get up into your face. “What do you think you’re doing?”

 

“Trying to go home?”

 

For a second Baekhyun is stunned by your matter-of-fact answer and you smirk. Turns out that’s the wrong idea since Baekhyun only gets angrier. “Don’t try to play smart with me. How long? How long were you fucking around behind my back?”

 

“It’s hardly… ‘fucking behind your back’. Sehun was the one who asked me out. It’s not a secret or anything.”

 

“Oh, we’ll get to _him_ eventually.” He bristles with animosity. If it’s not Sehun at the moment, then who could it possibly be? “Tell me the truth. How many guys have you been with?”

 

“Baekhyun,” Sehun warns. You feel a sharp tug on your arm and you stumble backwards. In a heartbeat Sehun’s in front of you, six feet of protective boyfriend forming a wall between you and the increasingly aggravated… ex? You have no idea what to call Baekhyun. “You were told for your own good, not to harass my boyfriend.”

 

When you touch Sehun’s back he flinches, obviously expecting something from right in front of him and not behind him, but you can’t just cower behind your boyfriend. You’re the student body president. Leaving any two students to squabble amongst eachother, EXO or not, is a clear violation of your responsibility.

 

“It’s alright.” You rub at the spot where your hand lays and instantly Sehun untenses. Either you’re the best masseuse in the world (and you’re not, as your flatmate would love to remind you after your last failed one) or your boyfriend was taking this situation way too seriously. “He deserves to know. Baekhyun, I’ve only dated two people. That’s Jongin and Se-”

 

“But you’ve fucked three.” Baekhyun snaps, once again looking bitterly at Sehun. “Or is it four now?”

 

Your blood runs cold when Baekhyun gets so specific with the number. He’s not… supposed to know about anyone else other than Jongin. You already loathe the fact that he knows and remembers that pitiful limp of yours, clinging to Junmyeon and the shattered remnants of your dignity. He must’ve thought you were picking up the pieces and rebuilding yourself before he knocked it all down with his proposition. But now he knows. You weren’t recovering at all. You were on your back, getting fucked and choked by another EXO member.

 

“You can’t even tell me.” Baekhyun shakes his head. “If you told me you were into choking I would’ve done it. Why’d you run off and screw someone else?”

 

“Isn’t it obvious? You can’t satisfy him.” When Sehun steps behind you and puts his arms against your waist you can hear the silent threat behind the action. ‘I can’. Baekhyun certainly knows given how agitated he gets. “That’s all.”

 

Despite being totally supportive of your boyfriend, you would rather the two EXO members refrain from giving eachother a black eye and most likely a suspension. That’d be a horrible enough occurrence on its own, you don’t want it to be centered on you.

 

“I’m sorry.” The two, who were in the middle of bickering, freeze. Clearly neither of them expected that you’d actually apologize. Being polite oftentimes means being unnecessarily apologetic. Sure, you didn’t mean a lot of your apologies and were mainly to get you out of sticky situations like these, but… You actually care for Baekhyun. “To tell you the truth, D.O. came first. When you threatened me I-”

 

“Ah. So I was right.” Sehun lets go of you and cracks his knuckles. “You’re the annoyance.”

 

You can feel a migraine coming on. You know what? Screw it. You can act childishly too. “I swear to god if either of you lay a finger on each other I’m never going to speak to you ever again and I’ll be bouncing on _D.O.’s_ lap instead. Do I make myself clear?”

 

You never thought it was possible to combine disgust and awe at the same time but Baekhyun captures the expression perfectly, backing away with his hands up in mock surrender. Sehun’s far too threatened to chase after Baekhyun, steely gaze searching your face for any sign of veracity.

 

You sigh and press your lips against Sehun’s for a quick peck. “Sorry, that was a spur of the moment thing. I wasn’t thinking about what I was saying, I’m so stupid-”

 

Sehun’s hands cup your face, stopping you midsentence. After a few moments of fond, intimate strokes he asks. “Have you moved on from everyone else?”

 

“Yes.” You lie. For a second, when Sehun’s lip twitches, you swear he knows you’re lying.

 

 **-** **—-—** **\--✁-  - - -  - - - -  -**

 

Things calm down on EXO’s side after the Baekhyun incident, but Sehun only flares up more. Although you’re still technically secretive about your relationship, Sehun does everything in his power to remind you who you’re with. It starts with dragging you away from your usual seat with D.O. and Chanyeol to an entirely new table where it’s just you and Sehun. Then he’s calling you his. Then it’s always asking you who you’re with and laughing when you finally give in and say his name. He especially loves giving you tacky gifts with both of your initials on them, usually tchotchkes that he got inscribed for cheap.

 

It’s not all that long before you get an expensive gift, however.

 

Orange rays stream through the windows on a lazy afternoon, lighting up the room gently in place of harsh white fluorescent. You’re over at Sehun’s house, on the couch, playing with the fluffy white angel Sehun calls Vivi. While you aren’t sure whether you’re capable of raising a pet, you absolutely love coming to your other house (as you now call it) if only so that you can play with the walking cloud posing as a poodle. Sometimes it’s a challenge being a father to a dog that absolutely refuses to do any tricks for you, but you love him unconditionally.

 

Vivi’s just about sleeping on your lap when Sehun comes out of the woodworks with a box. Not garishly wrapped like a Christmas present nor a huge cardboard box, just a black, silky container that he presses into your hands. A smile tugging at your lips, you decide to humor him with the trinket this gift is inevitably going to be. You shake your head and pop the box open.

 

Inside is a beautiful choker, as if black velvet was woven into both a collar and intricate lace, minute color difference showing off flowery patterns against the dark background. A glint catches your eye as you move the box, only to find that the lace you’d been so entranced by distracted you from the main feature: a glossy, golden metal plate. On it, with the flowy script of calligraphy but with clear permanent etching, is ‘Oh Sehun’.

 

It’s the most expensive thing you’ve ever gotten. You’re happy that Sehun’s thinking about you like this, but something this garish is about the farthest thing from your style that you can think of. How are you going to wear a tie over this? It would feel awkward with a collared shirt on as well. There’s also the glaring fact that it basically outs you as Sehun’s boyfriend.

 

You’re not ashamed of your relationship in any capacity, otherwise you wouldn’t have even visited Sehun’s house in the first place. There’s really only one person you’re afraid of finding out and that’s Junmyeon. Sure, there’s an awkward air over your salad when you sit with D.O. and Baekhyun makes it a point to sulk whenever you’re looking, but they don’t mind in the long run. If Junmyeon were to catch wind of you dating one of Jongin’s best friends there’d be no end to the hell.

 

But you do adore this gift. And Sehun. You’ll just have to explain why you can’t wear it, that’s all. “It’s absolutely lovely.”

 

“I know. Put it on, please?”

 

“It’s not like you to say ‘please’.” You sigh and shut the box. “I mean it, really. I love the gift. I just don’t think that it suits me.”

 

Sehun scoffs and flips the lid off again. Hardly in the mood to argue and with a sleeping puffball on your lap, you just shake your head and lean back while Sehun takes the choker out completely. “Come on. I’m not asking you to wear it out in public.” His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows uneasily. “I’m the only one here. Just for me? Pretty please?” The gold glints, tempting you, as Sehun offers it once more.

 

“Only for you.”

 

Sehun beams and presses the choker insistently into your hands. You fumble with the clasp at the back, gulping when the cold metal finally pops free. Before you know it Sehun’s behind you, slipping the cloth around your neck and sealing your fate with a soft _click._ It’s not tight- it’s snug, fitted against your throat so you _know_ it’s there. Hyper aware of your breathing and the subtle rub you get every time you move your head, you almost ask to take it off.

 

Almost.

 

“We’ll play later.” Sehun whispers to Vivi as the puffball finally stirs, eventually traipsing off of your lap and disappearing into one of the other rooms. You take the opportunity to stretch your legs while Sehun joins you on the sofa. He wastes absolutely no time showering your cheek with kisses, trailing down to your jawline and then moving your head aside to get at your oh-so-sensitive neck.

 

“What’re you doing?”

 

“Who do you belong to?” Sehun says suddenly, barreling over your previous question with more kisses. When you don’t answer fast enough, he nips, making your already labored breathing worse.

 

“Y-You.” Sehun’s ravenous kisses intensify until you find your head tilting back, trapped between Sehun’s lips and the leather backing of the sofa. Although most of your brainpower is devoted to remembering to breathe, you’re coherent enough to notice Sehun’s hand sliding across your thigh, making its way to your crotch.

 

You’ve stopped him every time before this because you simply weren’t comfortable. Anytime now you expect that familiar feeling of apprehension to come crawling out of your gut so you can be that stuck-up, prudish and conservative guy like you used to be, but it never comes. Your body roars in the opposite drive, driving your legs apart so that Sehun’s intrepid fingers have more to work with.

 

Sehun spends little time palming through your clothes, preferring to pop your buttons open with swift, optimal movements. Your pants are the first to go, taken off with Sehun’s explicit annoyance- when it takes longer than a second, Sehun growls and stops kissing you. When it’s off, he’s right back onto your neck as if he never left. Next is your shirt, which you think comes off with no incident until Sehun’s shoving you hard.

 

You land on your side but Sehun is quick to turn you over, making you cower on your back at the sheer intensity of his gaze. He looks like he’s going to eat you up. Correction. He has been and _is_ eating you up right now, licking over your throbbing jugular and basking in your haggard breaths that brush against his hair and face. You couldn’t take your mind off of Sehun if you tried, from those sharp, downturned eyebrows, the dying light of the sun accentuating Sehun’s chiseled features in a brilliant orange gleam. You’re absolutely breathless.

 

It’s a picture you have to save in your head quickly, since Sehun’s far too impatient to give you a particularly long look. His face pulls back and hands meet your waist for all of two seconds before they’re gone- and with them, your boxers. To your amazement you make no effort to cover yourself despite your obvious, intense arousal. You really aren’t the shrinking violet you used to be and Sehun seems to have taken notice.

 

Cupping his hand against your member, he smirks. “Cute.” Alright, that still makes you blush. You’re not an exhibitionist yet.

 

With equal speed Sehun undresses himself, eagerly shedding every layer until he reaches his underwear. Just from the outline you shiver and gulp. Sehun’s gigantic. Your mind wanders, coming to terms with what it means for your immediate future. How would it feel in your mouth? Stretching it, forcing your jaws apart, drooling, _gagging_ when Sehun thrusts in, nowhere to go with the cushion at the back of your head-

 

“Can’t wait for it, can you?” Sehun tugs his waistband down, pride rolling off of him in waves when you gawk. The outline really didn’t do it justice. Hidden behind the fabric you weren’t really able to gauge how thick it is. Out in the open, you can confirm that it’s easily the biggest penis you’ve ever seen.

 

“You aren’t asking me to suck it, are you?” Your inner fear sneaks out of you, afraid of a little gagging despite the fact that you got off to choking before.

 

“What, you afraid?” Sehun hikes your legs up without warning, bending them over your head, making your back creak with the sudden flexibility strain. “I’ll go with my other idea, then.”

 

“S-Sehun, I’m not sure if I- Ooh!” You trail off to the sound of noisy slurps coming from your backside. Nevermind. You’re perfectly fine with the slight discomfort if it means that Sehun’s tongue can keep drilling into you like that. It’s hot and wet but flexible at the same time, sliding into your crevice with well-timed darts. Languid circles massage over your rim, long and aimless licks brush over your perineum and every time he hits just the right bundle of nerves, makes your legs shudder.

 

Inevitably, despite your best efforts, your legs start falling. Before they crash down onto the sofa or worse, Sehun’s back, your lover shifts and catches them mid-fall. You breathe out a hurried ‘thanks’, but what you want to say is ‘get right back down there’. For a second you think that that’s exactly what he’s doing, at least until your legs are hoisted up over his shoulders.

 

“Since you’re so afraid of using your mouth, I’m going in dry.” Panic bubbles up in your chest, but Sehun is quick to shush you. “Trust me, okay? We have all the time in the world ‘til you get used to it.”

 

You fix Sehun a worried glare which doesn’t faze him all as he rises higher to line himself up with your hole. Wordlessly he coaxes his head in, calculating eyes soaking in every detail of your silent scream. Your nails dig into the sheets before finding purchase in Sehun’s arm. He hisses lowly until you have enough sense to loosen your grip. “Sorry.”

 

“You can apologize better than that. And it doesn’t include your mouth.”

 

Deciding it best to shut up and relax before Sehun reaches the end of his patience, you close your eyes and take a deep breath. You can feel yourself stretching, adjusting just enough to fit snugly around Sehun’s engorged head. You sigh when you feel the first trickle of pre, giving some much-needed lubrication when Sehun decides to slide in more.

 

Every time you reach a snag Sehun knows immediately, dropping down to ease the burn with kisses or whispers in your ear, telling you how good you are. How good you feel. How you’re clamping down just right on him. How you look like a needy slut- _his_ needy slut. That last one gets to you, moaning out of want and keening in delight when Sehun drives himself deeper. The shame you tried so hard to escape is coming back, but damn if you don’t like it.

 

The burn is intense and very hard to tear your attention away from, but the pain swims and fades to the tune of Sehun’s praise. When Sehun finally hilts himself it’s like a plug of hot iron pulsing within you, twitching and shifting in time with every dirty word that passes your ear. Eventually the discomfort passes and you’re left with nothing but fullness and the need for Sehun to really start fucking your ass. Without even noticing it you rock back and forth, moaning softly when your nerves catch up to your brain.

 

“See?” Sehun says smugly. “Trust your owner.”

 

“O-Owner?” Even saying the word has your entire body tingling.

 

“What, do you not like it?” Sehun flicks the plate on your choker. “You’re mine, aren’t you? _I’m_ your boyfriend. _I’m_ the only one you think about. Or do you prefer master?”

 

Despite the indignation boiling up within you, when Sehun starts pulling out something deep within you clicks. And no, that’s not just his massive tool sliding across your prostate, but that’s there too. It’s only now, beneath him and smothered by his confidence that you understand. He’s been your owner for a long time now. Wearing you down with a constant barrage of questions and reminders so that by the time you’re quivering under him you’ve agreed with him so many times that you can’t argue. Somehow that shakes you and not in a pleasurable way.

 

When you fall silent Sehun takes the opportunity to chuckle. “You don’t need to answer. Just moan for me.”

 

You’re hardly in a position to resist. Even just getting to this point has gotten you unreasonably aroused. Sehun leans forward and your legs follow, his  shoulders slowly but surely forcing your legs past their usual flexibility limit. He doesn’t pause this time, slowly bending you in half until his face is just above yours. He looks down but you don’t need to, gasping when he hilts himself again in one savage thrust.

 

Sehun’s in complete control, even over you during his wild rutting. He somehow knows when your half-lidded eyes aren’t focused on him, knows when you’re right about to pop, just so he can stop and wait for you to calm. By the third or fourth time you’re sobbing for him to let you come.

 

“I like how you whine.” He says nonchalantly, as if you haven’t been whining for him to let you finish for minutes now.

 

After that it’s begging through ragged breaths, shuddering wildly as you’re denied for the umpteenth time. You’re both sweaty messes, you can barely breathe with this goddamn choker on and you’re nowhere near the pace where you started at, but Sehun carries on. When your words fade away completely and you can do little more than mewl deliriously, that’s when Sehun stops for the last break.

 

Finally, Sehun dips his head low to whisper. “You only come when your master wants you to.” His hands, which were holding your feet, go down to your thighs. “Now come, slut.”

 

With a simple shift and a little push on your thighs, Sehun has you screaming despite your sore throat. This entire time he was rubbing against it was just a tease, the pleasure that slowly built up stroke by stroke absolutely nothing compared to the fire that just consumes you now. All of this frustration and pleasure and begging was all to prove a point. He could have you coming in absolutely no time, but he doesn’t want that.

 

Sehun unloads inside you and you follow suit, flashes of white hot contentment taking over your vision before fading into normalcy and, most of all, tiredness. You’re accustomed to pain and prolonged bouts of sex, but no one has just… stopped you from coming that often. About to let your eyes shut, they fly open when Sehun picks you up.

 

Clinging to him fearfully, scared both of falling and Sehun asking for another round, you’re instead brought to the silken sheets of his bed. Sehun brushes your sweaty bangs off of your forehead and kisses it. “Go to sleep. We have something to do tomorrow.”

 

By all means you want to sleep, but one thought keeps your fading consciousness going for just a few seconds more. What just happened? You had sex with Sehun. But it didn’t _feel_ like Sehun. The Sehun you know makes up words, gets fluffy over bubble tea and kisses the back of your hand. He’s not supposed to bring back those feelings that your last three relationships had.

 

And yet, that’s what happened. But he’s Sehun, you remind yourself. He’s probably only like this in bed. _But he was like this when he was offering the choker_ . Maybe chokers have some kind of special significance to him. _Yeah, like you being his property_ . Is it that bad to be owned by someone? _You’re pathetic_. You tug at your hair and groan. Enough! You’re tired. You turn over and take the choker off, muttering that you’ll think about it in the morning.

 

 **-** **—-—** **-** **—** **✁  - -  - - -  - - -**

 

There’s no time to think. The morning is a blur, mainly because Sehun insists on making everything fast and helping you with everything. He cleans you in the shower, makes you breakfast, even helps you dress- all things you would be incredibly annoyed at if you didn’t cringe in pain every time you walked. You almost don’t catch Sehun putting the choker around your neck again, that’s how dazed you were. An uncertain look from you is all it takes for Sehun to sigh and offer one of his shirts, bigger and capable of hiding the choker without clinging on like a turtleneck.

 

Sehun drops you off at class without any explanation, but he’s waiting by the door as usual. When his arm comes around yours you expect to be taken directly to the usual place you go to, the cafeteria. Little do you know you’re being taken up to Jongin until you’re face to face with the tanned beauty. Sehun… probably just has something to say to him. There’s no way that you’re going to be involved in this in any way-

 

Jongin breaks into a lopsided grin. “Finally made your move?”

 

Sehun gives a knowing smirk and moves away. Alright, that was probably just a coincidence. Jongin knows Sehun well enough to make snap judgments, and it’s not as if Sehun’s parading you around. Right, just a coincidence! It’s also a coincidence that you’re heading straaaight for Xiumin.

 

In the middle of eating biscuits, the puffy-cheeked hyung raises an eyebrow when the two of you stop silently in front of him. Sehun pulls you into a hug and Xiumin smiles, giving a thumbs-up. When Xiumin offers you one of his biscuits you gladly take one, but Xiumin quickly grabs your other hand and drags you closer.

 

“Sehun’s a handful,” Xiumin whispers with a light giggle. “But don’t let him get you down. He talks a big talk, but he’s a softie inside. I should know.” Tiny wink.

 

“Uh… I’ll keep that in mind.” You say before darting back to Sehun’s side.

 

Still chanting the word ‘coincidence’ like a mantra or a prayer for peace of mind, you’re convinced that you’re on your way to the cafeteria with your darling boyfriend who certainly doesn’t want to show you off to everyone. You breathe a sigh of relief when you hear the familiar rustle and bustle of hungry college students, the offkey singing from a particular group more like music to your ears than the usual headache. Sehun’s even kind enough to bring you to your old table with D.O. and Chanyeol already there. How sweet. Now, err, why is he pulling you back up when you’re trying to take a seat?

 

Sehun tugs down your shirt and exposes your choker just long enough for the two other EXO members to read it. They both react immediately, Chanyeol yelling ‘Fuck no’ while D.O. looks away in distaste. After Chanyeol’s outburst he’s stunned, slumping against his chair as if a fundamental fact of his life was just challenged.

 

It’s D.O.’s turn to speak and when he does it’s with bitter coldness. “You know, I would be angrier about this if I didn’t find out a month ago.”

 

“What, not comfortable with sharing? You were fine with it before Baekhyun told you.”

 

“Whatever.”

 

D.O. bristles and Sehun is wise enough to not provoke him any further, instead going over to provoke yet another table. Your face drains of all color when you realize you’re heading over to yet another table, one that Baekhyun stares at you from. Sehun knows everything, doesn’t he? Your head hangs and your feet slow, only to pick up at Sehun’s insistent nudges.

 

When Sehun exposes your choker this time you make no effort to cover it up anymore. After all, with the two sitting here, that marks six people with the knowledge that the prissy little president was tamed and collared. Chen watches with intrigue while Baekhyun slides down in his seat, mumbling up a storm.

 

Given Chen’s passiveness, Baekhyun’s crushed, muttering state and your jittery, barely coherent thanks to anxiety self Sehun’s the only one who’s capable of starting the conversation. And he does. “Told you. You just didn’t satisfy him.”

 

Baekhyun’s weary gaze settles on Sehun for the briefest of moments before locking onto you. He only has a fraction of his first confrontation’s fire, an ember among dying logs, but he still has at least some spirit. “I would’ve been much better if you’d just asked me out.”

 

“Y-You knew Sehun was my owne-” You bite down on your cheek, flustered. “Boyfriend for a while now. Why didn’t you do anything before?”

 

“Because…” The ember flickers a bit and you wait in anticipation for the bluster to return. It doesn’t. The ember flickers and dies. “It’s because… Nevermind.” At this point Baekhyun looks like he wants nothing more than to go home or go to sleep, but Chen’s on him in seconds, whispering fervently into his ear. You don’t get to figure out what’s happening, though.

 

Sehun’s already tugging you along to the next stop on your sordid, tiresome trip. You’ve almost resigned yourself to the entire affair before you realize the route you’re taking. No. Nonononono. This is a path you’ve tread countless times with far too many people; students, faculty, but most importantly Junmyeon. Sehun doesn’t realize it, but he’s taking you past the student affairs office, clearly to meet up with some other unknown friend of his to show you off.

 

You do your best to tug on Sehun’s sleeve, give him puppy eyes, any kind of wordless signal you can think of to convince him to take literally _any_ other route in the school. You weren’t perfectly compliant while being showcased to EXO but you didn’t complain. Oh god, you’re hyperventilating. What would Junmyeon say? No, what would he do? The thought of his crushingly heavy disappointment has you shuddering every other step as you drag your feet.

 

No matter what, however, Sehun refuses to give you the time of day, marching you along despite your best attempts to slow him down. When you complain a bit too much, Sehun has just the right quip. “Who do you belong to?” And your entire train of thought leaves the station.

 

You reach the hallway where the office is and your rapid breaths stop instantly. Your lungs scream in protest but you hold your breath the entire way, line of sight directly focused on those old oak doors as you draw closer. They’re not going to open. They’re not going to open. They’re not- the’re opening. It’s not going to be Junmyeon. It’s not going to be Junmyeon- _Hyung, why are you here now!?_

 

Junmyeon’s eyes meet yours, quizzical, wondering what you’re doing with Sehun. Sehun hasn’t made it too obvious yet, forgoing his usual arm around your shoulders to press his hand against the back of your neck, makes it tilt in just the right way to make the plate glint. Junmyeon’s eyes travel farther down, squinting to better see the text. This is it. Junmyeon’s going to kill you now. You squeeze your eyes shut so tightly you can see bursts of light in time with your pulsing heartbeat. What’s he going to say first?

 

“SEHUN!”

 

You open your eyes but Junmyeon’s looking past you. You turn around and spot Chen, jacket falling off his shoulders from having to chase after you and forehead lightly beaded with sweat. He moves quickly, both arms going into a good shove that has Sehun stumbling, careening toward Junmyeon. Sehun’s cool and calm exterior breaks, replaced by sheer panic- only to be caught and steadied by a really concerned Junmyeon. You take advantage of the chaos to pull the shirt back up, swamping the collar in the plaid of your top. Phew.

 

When you raise your eyes you realize the tense standoff happening, both Sehun and Junmyeon staring daggers into Chen. You have to give it to him, for someone on the receiving end of both glares, Chen’s not backing down in the slightest. He lunges and grabs Sehun’s shirt, curling the fabric into a tight ball around his fist. You notice Junmyeon moving to help Sehun, but Chen’s eyes, brown and thoughtful, have you moving without a thought.

 

Your hand blocks Junmyeon’s arm right before it reaches Chen’s. He’s startled. Honestly, so are you. By all means you should be protecting your owner- _boyfriend._ Boyfriend. But Chen’s not the type to get angry over nothing. Chen’s not the type to cause trouble at all. If Chen has a problem with Sehun (and honestly you can kind of already tell what it is), then it’s serious.

 

“Let go of me.” Junmyeon tries to move around you but stops when you move to block him again. He’s a lot bigger and stronger than you. He could easily move you aside by force.

 

But by his troubled face you can tell he would never do that.

 

“Let this happen.” You say. He drops his arm in defeat. “We’ll talk about this later.”

 

Junmyeon watches, hapless, as Chen drags Sehun back down the hallway. He moves back a few steps and nods. “I trust you. But if you need me-”

 

“Shout. We’ve had this discussion before!” You turn tail and run, scooting to Sehun’s side at the end of the hallway just in time to hear what’s going on.

 

“What do you think you’re doing?” Chen spits.

 

“Showing off my property.” Sehun replies, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world to do. So cold.

 

“I get that you’re into that. What I’m concerned about is him.” Chen moves so that he’s between you and Sehun. At first you’re annoyed. Since when did Chen have to protect you? When you notice how tight Sehun’s jaw is, you start to understand. “Is he into that? What have you been doing to him? Do you have a safeword? Did you even ask him how he _feels_?”

 

Sehun crosses his arms. “Look at him and take a good guess.”

 

“I _have_ looked at him, and he looks a frightened puppy. You two weren’t like this when it first started. I’m not nearly done with Baekhyun, but if I find out that you pressured him into this I swear I’ll deal with the both of you-”

 

“Fine! Fine. I didn’t ask him anything. Just keep it quiet. The one person he doesn’t want to find out is still standing here.” Sehun points out Junmyeon, who’s still standing in the spot, warily. “Why do you even care so much?”

 

“Because you’re not the only one who did some digging into what he’s up to.”

 

“Why, do you have a thing for our little prince?”

 

“And what if I do?” Chen’s eyes gleam dangerously. “Even if I didn’t, nobody deserves to have their control taken away without them agreeing to it first. I knew you were going to trip off power ordering around the first person who agreed to your kink, that’s why I told you to talk to me first. Now you’ve made a mess out of him!”

 

“So what are _you_ going to do about it? He’s _my_ boyfriend.”

 

“He can take a break.” Chen glances at you, waiting for your approval. You gulp. Sehun’s amazing and considerate when he’s not just thinking of himself. But… he almost brought you right to Junmyeon. He’s exposed you and made you feel like whore. You give a shaky thumbs-up, refusing to meet Sehun’s gaze. To an extent you know this is right. So why does it feel like you’re stabbing him in the back? “Then it’s settled.”

 

Sehun storms off like a blizzard, jagged, frosty and with a great deal of ferocity. You and Chen glance at Junmyeon, who’s already rushing to the two of you. Chen makes sure your back is turned to Junmyeon before briskly asking for your choker, helping you take it off. He pockets it just in the nick of time, right before Junmyeon pounces on you. He pats you down, tilts your head, looks for any sign of harm. You roll your eyes. He _saw_ that there was no violence.

 

Christ, why is Junmyeon such a cute dork?

 

“You can go now! It’s okay. Just don’t be surprised if Sehun’s moody for a while.” Chen says, dropping the formality in his voice. Huh. Does Chen know Junmyeon somehow? Ah, now you’ve got it. Junmyeon must’ve dealt with EXO at some point and had the foresight to speak to one of the more reasonable members. It’s so obvious!

 

“You sure? From where I was standing, it looked pretty bad.” Even though Chen’s right there Junmyeon gets touchy feely, patting your head in an almost condescending manner. Keyword almost. Junmyeon’s too soft to be condescending to anyone. “If it weren’t for this one I probably could’ve mediated.”

 

You pout. “I thought you trusted me.” You can’t help the mischievousness coming out of you. “Wah, Myeon-yah doesn’t trust me anymore. I guess I’ll be friends with Jongdae now.”

 

Chen plays along beautifully, giggling as he takes your hand. “Best friends forever.”

 

Junmyeon looks genuinely irked for a second before sighing. “Point taken. I have a class. Promise not to get into any more trouble?”

 

“Promise!” You lie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Halloween. After two typhoons, several exams and a lot of crying the latest chapter is finally up.
> 
> Nature itself keeps telling me that my updates are gonna take long so the tentative working schedule is 1-2 months. I swear this fanfic isn't gonna be abandoned.


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